Devil May Cry: Revelations
by MJTR
Summary: After a decade in the defeat of depression and loss, Dante accepts one last job to try and keep peace with the world- and himself.
1. Chapter 1

Devil May Cry: Revelations

A Fanfic by MJTR

Devil May Cry and all related properties belong to Capcom

Author's Note: I've been a big fan of Devil May Cry since I got the third game a few years ago. My fanism however mostly lies in the first three games, as four just irritated me and the reboot… Well, let's not discuss my feelings on that. I've always wanted to write a Devil May Cry fic, but was never really sure I had a really good idea for one… Until now. This'll at least start as a character piece I must warn you, and has taken a lot of notes from Frank Miller's "The Dark Knight Returns". That said, I hope you enjoy my interpretation of the characters, my take on continuity, and eventually, my journey into a new Devil May Cry story. Let's rock baby!

The dirty, dilapidated streets of the inner city slums sat quiet for yet another night. Though chaos was regular to spring in the city of Venna, it had sat quiet, undisturbed, for nearly a year. The little shop, sitting just down from a long closed bar and strip club, had seen little in the way of visitors over the course of the last year. The old neon sign hanging overhead had lights going out, now simply reading, "DEV MY Y", its own surely sitting within, sitting as if waiting for company, but seemingly hoping none would come.

It was on a night like this that the roar of a motorcycle could be heard nearby, pulling into the tiny parking lot of the worn out old place. Its driver slid off her helmet and made for the door, knocking gently only to force the rotting wood to open. The inside of the place was dark, but even then one could make out that it was a mess. Old cardboard boxes sat in one corner, some broken instruments and an old, worn down pool table in the other. A number of old weapons were embedded into the walls, some having a true supernatural aura to them, others appears as if they would crumble if you held them.

The shop's owner lazily opened his eyes and looked at her. His long, silvery hair sat mussed on his head, the outline of a scraggly five o'clock shadow upon his face. He was thin, though he had once been bigger, more muscular. He wore a black vest, unzipped most of the way down his front. He did not give the driver any real change in expression.

"Can's in the back," he said, seemingly forcing himself to do so. "But I wouldn't advise it. I think the manager shut off my water last night."

"Dante," the woman asserted with a chuckle. "Is that any way to greet a lady?"

She sat down in the chair opposite his desk, allowing her a look at her dark, chocolate colored body as she swept back the red hairs falling into her face.

"Sorry Luce," he said, sitting up a little only to lean back some more. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

"It's just… We've barely spoken in these last few months… What can I say? I'm worried about you."

Dante said little as he looked her over. Her dressings were conservative, consistent of a petticoat and blouse. Skirt was a little short, but she was wearing hose underneath. This was a trend for her, he thought to himself. Always more covered after she moved out of his place.

The two had spent the better part of a year together in the little shop. Maybe if he felt the way he used to, it would have been much longer. Perhaps if they had met when he had still felt a lust for his work, still partook in funny banter with his enemies, still had a taste for the world around him, maybe they could have been happy.

For a while she made him feel that way again, or at least closer to it. When she stayed with him in the shop he felt like he could laugh sometimes, found himself constantly ordering pizza and strumming on his guitars in the corner again. It was a change to her, who only knew him as damper as he was before her then, but it had taken up much of his life. Perhaps if he still loved life, he could have loved her.

"How is your business doing?" Dante asked. Lucia operated a line of work similar to his own, she too one of the nation's few investigators and exterminators of paranormal activity. When they decided they could no longer remain together, Dante had given her a large supply of money to allow her to start her own business. Why he had so much Lucia was left to question, as it seemed nonsensical that a man with so much cash hidden away would still be working out of the dingy little place, but she never asked him why.

"Very smoothly actually," Lucia replied. "There's plenty of cleaning out to do all around the city and plenty of rich people willing to surrender about everything to feel safe again… Do I dare ask how things are here?"

"You _can_ dare," Dante muttered, "But I think you can tell just by looking around," he said, still emotionless.

The two carried on like this for around thirty minutes, raising little questions of one another about life and work and the sort. Lucia was largely expressive throughout, but Dante showed only the smallest emotions. Eventually Lucia sighed and gave a look at her watch.

"I should probably get going, I have some more business to attend to tonight," she lied, now just trying to escape the deathly quiet shop. "I have a room down at the Bishop's Hotel, you know the place, right?"

"Yeah," Dante said with a little nod.

"Well, let me leave you my room number," she said, grabbing a little piece of paper off his desk and quickly jotting it down. "Oh, and here's this." Thereafter she set down a small stack of bills, slightly catching Dante's attention.

"I'm not taking those," he said.

"Yes you are," Lucia asserted. "You got my business going, you get a cut. I don't care what you do with it. Gamble it, buy some pizza, fix that light outside, I don't care. Just do something Dante."

"Luce, take the money, I really don't need it."

"Then give it away to someone else," Lucia said, frustration from the poor conversation seeming to grow in her. "It is yours Dante… I hope I see you later."

She stormed out the door before he could argue any longer. Dante sighed and looked over the bills, sliding them into his desk and leaning back in his chair to fall asleep again.


	2. Chapter 2

"Redgrave! Redgrave open up! Your rent is due!"

Again Dante was pulled from the depths of sleep by a pounding on his door. He sighed and rose from his chair, bothering only to zip up his vest a bit more than he had the previous night. He scratched irritably at the stubble on his face, thinking to himself he should just shave it again soon, as he answered the door. An older, balding man in a suit jacket on the other side, giving him a brief look over.

"Good lord Redgrave, when's the last time you ate? I thought you looked like a damn stick last time I was over."

"Sorry," Dante said shortly, "Hadn't even been thinking about it."

"Just what _are_ you thinking about these days?" The man asked.

"Not much Mister Perkins… What do I owe you?"

"You owe me for almost a year and a half now!" The landlord snapped. "You can just thank heaven that door of yours didn't get knocked down again or we'd be in an even worse place. You haven't even been answering my calls!"

"My old girlfriend was here last night with the same complaint," Dante said dryly. "Let me see the invoice already." The man handed a little sheet of paper off to him, Dante giving it a quick look over before muttering, "Just a minute, I think I have just enough." And going inside. He came back shortly thereafter with the bills he had received from Lucia the night before.

"And just where did you get this?" Perkins asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She left it here. She wanted me to do something fun with it, but I didn't get a chance."

"What are you, twelve years old?" Perkins asked with disdain. "This… Isn't quite enough, but it'll get me off your case for now."

"Sounds good," Dante said. "Enjoy, I got some old records I need to reorganize for the millionth time."

Dante turned to head back into his shop before Perkins called, "Hey… Redgrave… Tony… Dante, whatever your name is."

He sighed, "It's Dante."

"That's not what you signed on the lease," Perkins said, annoyed.

"They just don't exactly do last names where I come from, alright?" Dante replied. "Besides, I don't think you really know what my name really invokes… I prefer if people call me that they do."

"Whatever you say… Look, Dante then, I don't like coming to hassle you over and over again like this… I put off coming to you as long as I can really afford… You've paid your own rent maybe four or five times since you started coming to this place, every other time its been onea those ladies just kicking me briefcases and the sort… They always told me you were in money trouble, but you were a good guy beneath it all… That somehow, even if I didn't know it, I owed you a lot more than I could ever know."

Dante said nothing, he only nodded. Perkins sighed, hoping for some response, and produced a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, only getting Dante to say, "No thanks," when he held the pack up and offered him one.

"So listen pal… I don't wanna put you on the street okay? I really don't. But this… This whole waiting so long to pay thing, it's not gonna work out anymore… Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Does anyone even come here for business? Come to this… God, what even is this? You call it a shop but do you really sell anything inside? Isn't that more of an agency or something."

"Or something," Dante said. "Well… No. No one much comes here anymore."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Perkins asserted. "If this thing isn't generating any revenue… I hate to tell you but you might need to get a new job! Have you done anything besides this?"  
"I delivered pizzas in high school… That's about it," Dante admitted.

"I used to run a plumbing and heating service, you can put me on your resume by all I care. I'll tell whoever you want that you're a fine, upstanding citizen, alright? Get out there, get a job… And seriously, get some sun! You look like a ghost in there!"

"I've always looked like a ghost," Dante retorted.

"That year you actually paid your rent your skin was about normal," Perkins argued.

"I was a different sort of man," Dante sighed, shutting the door.

"Yeah, you had a sense of humor!"  
Dante tucked his hands into his pockets and made his way over to his record collection. Not because he was actually intent of reorganizing them, but because he just needed something to kill the rest of the day.

By some bitter coincidence, an old favorite of his called, "Ultra Violet" stood atop the rest of his collection. It was a haunting old piece remixed with heavy guitar riffs to form an eerily strong rock ballad. He had been listening to this and a number of his other largely instrumental records a day before the year of rent paying Perkins mentioned began.

The day a tall woman with long, blonde hair and a deep digging cleavage top had walked into his shop.

He tried not to linger on those thoughts very often. He quickly set the record aside, trying not to think about it a moment longer, only to find himself even more melancholy yet again as he sifted through to his record, "Taste the Blood", another he associated with memories he had long stopped trying to hold on to. He stopped after another moment or two, knowing he would somehow come across, "Baroque and Beats" if he continued to search.

Dante was sure that would be impossible. He had destroyed every record, every file, everything associated with those particular memories. Still though, the paranoia got to him, and he simply could not risk coming across things like that again.

He made his way to his back room, knowing full and well he wasn't going to deal well with what was back there, but deciding if he wanted to keep his old place any longer, he should at least take inventory.

The back room was almost entirely empty. It was there he kept his old inventory of guns and devil arms, but had long since sold most of them off, either to aspiring hunters, collectors or museums and the sort. He always knew they could have sold for a fortune, but he never asked that. He'd never know what to do with all that money in the first place. All that remained in the old room was a claymore etched with a skull just above the handle, a worn old sawed off shotgun, a rocket launcher and a pair of old, handmade pistols. He picked up the shotgun, deciding he was the least sentimental about it, took it into his living room and began to polish it to prepare it for sale to the pawn shop down the road. The weaponry inside the main shop was only for show, this was one of the last few true weapons he owned.

He flicked on his old TV set, more than surprised when it actually worked without him smacking it. Whatever channel he had left it on, there was a bad stand-up comedian on when the picture cleared up. He flipped through channels with his remote as he cleaned off the old shotgun, wondering if he'd find a new line of work being advertised.


	3. Chapter 3

"And you're serious about all this? You of all people, getting an actual job?"

"I want to keep my place, and I'm not going to keep being your charity case Luce."

"You realize you can survive out there don't you? You remember who your father is, don't you?"  
"I can survive getting impaled more times than I'd like to count, but I don't look forward to it happening again. I can survive homeless and in the cold, but that doesn't mean I want to."

Dante had followed up on Lucia's offer to reunite again before her leaving Venna and the two stopped by a local café in a better part of town. Lucia slowly sipped a little cup of hot tea as Dante only ordered water, which he was also taking his time with. Lucia had ordered a little plate of warm cookies for them to share, but Dante declined, insisting he was not hungry, leaving them all to her.

"On top of that, just what are you wearing?" Lucia asked, looking over the beaten old green jacket and jeans Dante had thrown on that morning.

"They're clean," he said simply.

"Where did you get an outfit so… Erm… Unflattering?"

"It was some kind of advertisement I did years ago," Dante said, in a voice that suggested if he was more prideful, he would be ashamed to admit it. Lucia only laughed a little to herself before focusing again on the subject on hand.

"Dante listen… Why don't you just come back to Dumary Island with me? Just… Remember your old work before you decide to give it all up. There's always something that needs taken care of, but it's never anything extreme. Dante you used to be the best of the best, why don't you find out for sure if you want to really give this up."

"Are you paying for my ticket?" Dante asked with a raise of his eyebrow. "You know I can't fly there myself."

"I'll gladly get you tickets there and back," Lucia insisted. "Just promise me you'll loosen up a little if I do this… That you'll try to see in this what you used to."

"What, try to have some fun killing something I'm half of?" Dante said, raising an eyebrow.

"No Dante, that you'll enjoy knowing you're doing something for the good of the world and the people around you… The humans you so long set out to protect."

Dante only shook his head to himself as he squeezed his lemon wedge into his glass of water, swirling it around a little with his spoon. "You aren't paying for my ticket out," he said. "I'm selling the Coyote here shortly, I'll use that to get myself a ticket."

"I'm not sure when the last time you were on a plane was Dante, but that's not going to pay your way to Dumary," she assured him with a little chuckle. "Besides, bring that old antique, it'll probably serve you well."

Dante quietly tried to give his attention exclusively to his water for a little longer. He thought about how long it had been, coming up on seven years, since he had last gone into battle… And even then he wasn't on top of his game, too bogged down by the events three years prior…

"I'm not saying I don't want to try Luce… But a man's 40's are bad years for him. Shouldn't I be preparing to fight my inner demons, like buying a new car I can't afford and lamenting my lost youth or something?"

Lucia stared at him for a moment before a wide smile came across her face. "That- That was a joke! And it was actually kind of funny!"

"You're being generous," Dante said, a little smile coming across his face nonetheless.

"You see Dante! You're actually sounding like you used to again! It's a good omen, you know it! You need to come with me, it's clear Dante, please."

Dante unconsciously reached across the table and grabbed one of the cookies on the little plate and took a bite, almost seeming surprised he had when he first noticed, only making Lucia laugh even more.

She'd grown so expressive since their first mission in Dunmary. At that time she was very much like he was before she had returned: A lost soul, embittered by circumstances out of their control, just trying to keep from causing trouble for anyone else. But as they became friends, allies, and for a while something more, she behaved more and more like he did when he was in the best of moods. She grew to share his fondness for pizza and sugar, for cracking jokes as she was out on a hunt. He had more than once admitted he thought she was acting more like him than even he was then.

But a day came when he just felt as if even that didn't matter anymore. A sadness, a bitterness that gripped him and forced him to tell her to leave him be.

If he dared to go with her, he knew he could very well be forced into that same situation again.

And yet somehow, maybe if he was feeling even a little better in the tiny café, that could be worth it.

"Alright," he said, his mouth half full. "I'll come along."

Outro Note: I am aware this really does not feel like a Devil May Cry story right now. This is not meant to be a romance fic by any stretch (though it does have more focus than in the games, naturally). This will build to what I'm confident will be an excellent action story with a few hellacious twists and turns.  
In spite of how emotastic Dante is acting in this piece, let me assure anyone reading this sucker it has a place, both with regards to the in-game continuity and in the universe of the fic.


	4. Chapter 4

A few more short, uneventful days in Venna passed before Lucia was patiently trying to explain to Dante how to work their way through customs and what he could and could not bring on the plane with him. When everything had been secured away and the two had waited in who knew how many lines, they finally made their way onto the plane. Their seats were separated by several rows, but Dante didn't mind, he was only going to sleep the entire flight.

He wondered if he was always so desperate to sleep, as he leaned back into the uncomfortable chair, though knowing full and well it was better than sleeping at his desk. He gently shut his eyes and prepared to drift off until he was interrupted by a, "Sir? Please fasten your seatbelt before you just fall asleep."

A man with a pencil thin moustache took the seat next to him, Dante only giving him a passing acknowledgement. The man would probably have stopped and stared if he'd seen him a few year prior, dressed in flamboyant reds and making as much noise as possible. His white hair was the only thing not black on him, he looked almost dressed as if in mourning.

The flight attendants went through their required speech about where everything was located, how to exit in the event of an emergency, things Dante had not heard a million times, but already felt like he had. And before he knew it, probably before the plane even got off the ground, he was fast asleep.

Dante sat with women on each side of him, two at his side, one just in front of him. A blonde and brunette at his sides, both wearing cleavage bearing tops with a number of guns strapped to their persons. In front of him was the largely conservative redhead, her finger running along a page in an ancient looking book, reading from it carefully.

"But this creature is not of Sparda, not of his Holiness. Bred from Hell's pits, born of The Adversary, behold he shall come, and with him an end of days… Hell's greatest crown prince, The Plutuson."

Dante sat still as she concluded the passage from the book and gave him a long look. "Son of Sparda… I know we of The Order of the Sword lost our way under the rule by that monster Sanctus. But we were not always so misguided. And this," she gave special emphasis to the book, "Is what we were trying to prevent."

"Some new supposed, 'Crown Prince of Hell' with a really stupid name?" Dante asked with a smirk.

"Even Sanctus did not always plan to overtake the order the way he did… From what these old records I've been reading say, he only became intent on leading a massive attack on the demons and giving life to The Savior after he heard the Temen-ni-gru resurfaced."

"It all just comes full circle, doesn't it?" The brunette by Dante's side muttered.

"Twice now, actually," Dante replied, "First with my old man, then back around to me. Man, most kids just gripe when their dads don't give that new bike for their birthday."

"The bottom line is, Dante, that even if his actions were poisoned, Sanctus was preparing for something very real," the redhead enforced. "It's been in all the rest of these books. Predications of the rise of the Temen-ni-gru, foretelling your journey to Mallet Island… A great evil is coming… By all we know it has already been born."

"Yeah yeah yeah Kyrie. Find this Plutuson thing, kick his ass, take out as many of his handmaids as possible along the way. Yeah, I'll do it, why not. Do you have any leads on where this sucker could be?"

"One theory presides over the rest," Kyrie said, shutting the book. "To the far south of Fortuna is a wasteland, covered in volcanic ash at the base of a mount. Centuries ago, a cult trying to force the summoning of The Plutuson lived there, before an attack from the Order ultimately set off the volcano and buried them under feet of ash."

"There must be a gate there," Dante said. "A way to keep close to this beloved freak of theirs."

"We think somehow, some of the people from that city may have survived, and are there still making way for The Plutuson. If you can confirm these suspicions or prove them unfounded, the world will thank you."

"Well then, Trish, Lady, I think we know what we have to do. Thanks Kyrie, I'm always looking for another chance to stick it to those guys. Let's go girls."

"Nero will be there to rendezvous with you," Kyrie called as he walked out.

"Aw man," Dante expressed to himself. "Four people, really? I'm not gonna get to blast anything."

Dante was suddenly jolted from his sleep again by the screams of the plane's passangers and a horrible screech outside. He turned and looked out his window, seeing a massive, screeching dragon like bird. Its eyes were like giant black diamonds and it bore scars down its face and chips into its beak. The screech it continued to utter out was a horrid, loud shrill sound. Dante gritted his teeth and got up, forcing himself out of retirement even earlier than expected.


	5. Chapter 5

"Sir! Sir you need to sit down! Sir-"

Dante stepped into the middle of his aisle and firmly punched the center of the walkway, breaking his fist deep into it and managing to pull it open with relative ease.

"What the hell are you doing?!" A stewardess demanded as he made his way into the lower part of the plane.

"My old job," he said wryly. "You could probably go back to your seat."

Swiftly he rifled through the luggage at the bottom of the plan, eventually coming across his large case of weaponry. He broke the lock off with his hand and swiftly reassembled the missile launcher within, vaguely noting the words, "Killina Anne" written on the side. He grabbed up a few missiles, his sword and his handguns as he made his way towards the cargo door and kicked it open. The blast of air was instantaneous, threatening to suck him out in a moment if he was not as strong and balanced as he was. The horrible beast let out its violent call again and flew to the side of the plane where it could stare at Dante with its terrifying black eyes.

"Son of Sparda!" The creature called, seemingly with joy. "I am so pleased to finally have found you!"

"There's not enough air up here for any small talk birdie," Dante retorted. "Get outta here or I'm gonna have to make you get out."

"The Master told me you had more wit to you than that!" The creature mocked. "Show some respect worm! I am Ziz of the skies!"

"I'm pissed off you woke me up," Dante said, raising his missile launcher. "Sit still for me!"

"Pathetic! Utterly path-"

Ziz was cut off as a missile fired from Dante's launcher directly into his mouth, erupting into a blast of fire thereafter, shattering his already damaged beak even more. The beast roared in pain as Dante quickly reloaded Killina Anne. He took aim and fired again, but the demon bird managed to evade the next projectile. Dante attempted to reload again, but Ziku made a rush and dug his talons into the plane. Screams from the passengers above were audible as Dante was forced from his balance and nearly fell out of the plane, forced to grab the bottom of the door he was standing in and losing Killina Anne into the depths of the aircraft. Moving like an old swashbuckler, he managed a leap from the door onto one of Ziz's talons. Clinging tightly, knowing even he probably could not survive a fall from his current height, dug his heel's against the creature's foot and began to climb. Ziz shook violently, trying to force him off, but try as he may, Dante's hold was consistent as he forced his way up its body and jumped off onto the top of the plane.

"Acrobatic little worm aren't you?!" Ziz yelled.

Dante said nothing, only drew the two pistols at his side and took aim.

Pulling their triggers, a barrage of golden lightning engulfed every bullet as they flew into Ziz's chest. The monster began to shake and convulse violently as he was blasted again and again. It leaned its head downward to roar at him but when it did he only took the chance to make a run and jump on its head, giving it a stab between the eyes with his loyal claymore.

Ziz could bear no more as was, and pulled himself from the plane, Dante making a jump back of his own, desperate to get ahold of Killina Anne again if the fight was going to be from a distance.

He managed to get himself back into the lower level of the plane when Ziz came at him again, opening its mouth wide and taking a big bite out of the bottom level of the plane. Dante was forced to retreat backwards to keep himself from being swallowed. A number of pieces of luggage, including one of Dante's cases, ended up in the monster's mouth, which he swallowed without second thought. Dante attempted to back up further, but seeing just how little room was left, knew any further damage could destroy the plane. He forced himself closer to the monsterous creature and took aim with his pistols as it came closer to him, only to swallow hard with it took another bite out of the plane and took him with it.

Ziz cackled to himself as he swallowed the pounds of metal and flesh. "Foolish child! Now for the rest!"

Ziz increased his speed and made his way closer to the front of the plane, opening his mouth wide, intent on ripping the thing to shreds and eating every soul within. However, it stopped and found itself slowing down as it felt a horrible wrenching in its stomach. It twitched and shuddered for a few moments before it again roared in pain as the claymore came jutting out of its stomach. It screeched and screeched as Dante pulled the monster's stomach open and jumped out, a bloody, acidic mess, but fine nonetheless.

He looked up and saw the plane too far to reach and found himself falling fast. Unsure of just how he was going to escape the situation, he instead turned his attention back to Ziz, who was now too weak and falling out of the sky with him. Sliding one of his pistols out, he took aim and fired a single bullet into the opening he had made in its stomach. It let out one last painful scream as the bullet the case of Dante's it had swallowed, setting off his supply of missiles packed within. The monstrous Ziz was blasted into a spray of blood and feathers as the firey explosion within overtook him in an instant.

Dante still looked nervously towards the ground, obscured by the layer of clouds below him, until suddenly his fall stopped. It took him a moment to catch his breath as he looked up, seeing a humanoid bird creature clutching his hand.

"Luce, thanks," Dante said, smiling a little.

Even through her angelic visage she smiled back. "I don't think we can catch up with the plane again. I grabbed the launcher, let's head for the ground.


	6. Chapter 6

"How do you think we'll get there now?" Dante asked, scanning the horizon. It's got to be another hundred miles or so."

"Looks like there's a town up there a ways," Lucia said. "We can probably find some place to rent a car for the rest of the way." She offered him Killina Anne, which he accepted.

"So how did it feel?" She asked as they began their journey to the little town.

"How did what feel?" Dante asked.

"You know… Getting back to your old work." Dante said nothing, only shrugging a little. She sighed as he did so. "Well, maybe you just need a bit more exposure."

"Or maybe this just isn't my kind of party anymore," he said with a little snark.

"Nonesnse, not when I know who you are and how you've been about things. You just need a little more fresh air about all this."

"Whatever you say," he said, rolling his eyes and sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Had you packed up any of those old red coats of yours?" Lucia asked.

"No," he said. "I feel like I've grown out of all that flamboyance at this point."

"That's ridiculous," Lucia said, embittered.

"What are you talking about? I wasn't wearing one that first time we went to Dumary."

"Yes you were," she argued, "Underneath that strip of black armor, I'm sure you were! You told me at least once you felt naked out and about without all that red leather."

"I sure didn't wear those old things much when we were at home then," he said under his breath with a tiny laugh.

"What was that?!" Lucia demanded.

"Nothing," he said. "It's not important, those clothes aren't important… It was just in the past, alright?"

Lucia only rolled her eyes. "Have you at all stopped to think that all these things you keep saying about growing up might not be growing up at all?"

"What are you talking about Luce?" Dante asked.

"You keep talking about getting a real job and growing out of all your old things… Dante I'm glad you're thinking about life harder than you could before, but I frankly liked you better when you could loosen up, have a little fun… Acted like a damn human being."

"I'm more human than you," he retorted.

"You'd never know it… And did you really just say that? Say that without cracking a smirk or anything?

"Just leave it alone," Dante muttered.

"What… What happened to you?" Lucia asked, growing more and more dissent for the situation. "You used to say I made you feel like yourself again so… Why did that ever stop in the first place? Why did you ever stop feeling like yourself?"

Dante took a long look at the ground as they kept walking, only muttering, "I lost everything that made all that matter."

"What do you mean you lost it? You lost what?"

"I'll tell you one of these days Lucia… I promise," Dante said.

Dante retrieved two expired bottles of soda from the old town's gas station and leaned against a rundown little rental agency as Lucia tried to barter for a car inside. The bottle gave off a faint _hiss_ as he opened it and got a taste of lemon and lime, gagging a little and trying to get some air. It had been quite a while since he had drunken anything with such a strong sweetness to it. He began taking smaller sips as Lucia stepped out of the agency.

"My wallet was up in the plane."

"Perfect," Dante said sarcastically, offering her the other soda in his hand.

"However," she said, taking it and smiling to herself, "I have made an arrangement. Apparently this little town has a few problems of its own. There is some string of demon just outside of town a little farther, supposedly called deserters. If we can take care of things out there, the manager is willing to rent us a car free of charge."

"Sounds simple enough," Dante said, taking a swig of his cola.

"Hopefully it can raise your spirits. He said they start to show up around nightfall. How are you feeling since that bird creature?"

"Barely thought of him since he was disposed of," Dante said, capping his bottle. "Well, let's go secure our new ride then."


	7. Chapter 7

"Is it wrong to feel so… Disappointed?" Lucia asked as they faced towards their foes, preparing to do battle.

The so called "Deserters" were composed of maybe a dozen or two snarling beasts with faces seemingly out of some gothic painting. Blades like sickles seemed to penetrate from both of their elbows and some rusted piece of metal seemed to be strapped onto their arms. Their place of hiding was a rolling area of dunes and set of low hills with caves running inward into them that the beasts slowly emerged from them.

Dante shrugged a little and slipped his pistols out from behind his back, taking aim at the monsters before them, nodding a little as Lucia took her stance with her dual cutlasses.

Dante quickly unloaded a number of bullets through the heads of the nearest, seemingly screaming demons, who convulsed violently as he blasted through them, faster and faster. Lucia made a bound towards the next nearest of the Deserters, clashing with its elbow blade a few times before cleaving through its neck, killing it instantly. Another made a rush at her from behind, but long before it could reach her she flung a throwing knife right between its eyes, putting it down in a moment.

Dante drew his claymore and took to hacking through the demons who rushed at him as he blasted their allies. The cuts were fast, brutal and precise, cutting through hearts, throats, any vital spot he could hit. One managed to slip around his sword and force its blade right through one of his arms. Dante did not even wince, only grabbing his white pistol again and putting a bullet through its head while it was at such close range.

They began working their way closer and closer to one another, their swords practically clashing at one point and at least one other feel both a bullet and a throwing knife penetrate both sides of its skull at once. Lucia did not take their strikes as well as Dante did, having to double take at a few slashes, but still more than proving herself far superior to nearly any human who could hope to confront the demons.

As their numbers began to dwindle, the demons quickly retreated back into the desert's dunes and took aim with the devices latched to their arms. "I knew those looked familiar," Dante muttered as they began to glow with a bright pink light. "Get down."

He grabbed ahold of Lucia and pulled her into a duck with him as a giant blast of pink energy overtook the air above them, erupting a moment later and kicking sand into the air all around them.

"What was that?!" Lucia gasped.

"Artemis," Dante said. "I thought those things looked familiar." He grabbed ahold of her arm and pulled her along with him as they fired another blast, leaving a giant crater of scorched earth where they had been standing.

"Have you fought any of these things before?" Lucia asked as he studied them.

"No," Dante said. "But I used to have one of those guns they're using. Looks like they're attacking together, so we should split them up-" He was interrupted as they fired again, this time Dante and Lucia splitting up themselves.

Dante scanned the environment, searching for something that could be used to put them down. As he raised a gun to try and fire at something (still not sure what), there was a blast from higher up on the hill, shaking a number of the rocks on upward, but not knocking anything loose or even startling the Deserters, but it gave Dante some sign of where to go. Her aim was never anything astounding, he knew it. Luckily, his was.

When Lucia threw another of her grenades, he managed to shatter its casing and erupt a consuming firestorm unto the Deserters. A number were killed instantly, splitting up the surviving group of Artemis users. Without further hesitation, they returned to the center of the fray.

Their work was quick and filled with regular quips from Lucia. Dante gave all of his focus to the task at hand, and they seemed to have their work finished when Dante unleashed a spray from his shotgun.

"As I said, disappointing," Lucia remarked, smiling just a bit. "Certainly not worth a car, but I'll take what we can get."

They turned to head back towards the city as a shake and rumble seemed to emit from the caves. They both turned as the rumble was slowly accompanied by scratching and soon a gurgling sound. They stood quietly as a giant, vile demon crawled out on its belly. Its face was grotesque as if bent and broken in such a horrible number of ways, its tongue hanging out of its mouth. The caves broke apart and crumbled as the beast pulled itself from its cave, taking its full height at about forty feet tall. It had a giant, seemingly rotting humanoid chest. At its waist its human form gave way to the hind body of a giant hooved creature, perhaps a moose or a stag. A number of giant sized Artemis weapons were strapped to its frontal arms as it leaned downward and snarled at them.

"You worms made quick work of my dogs," it said through its teeth. It gave Dante a long look and it inhaled deeply. "Your smell… Familiar… You are… A Son of Sparda."

"Don't linger on that," Dante muttered.

"Just what are you supposed to be?" Lucia asked, taking her stance again.

"Actaeon," the man-stag said. "And you… I have no memory of one such as you… What you could be doing with one such as a Son of Sparda I cannot imagine."

"Alright alright, leave her alone," Dante commanded. "We're here on business. And I suppose you can guess what that means."

Actaeon roared with laughter as he stood up, tall and proud. "And you think you can oppose me? What business even have you with my dogs and I? If you're searching for the Plutuson, as our names would suggest, we do not associate any longer."

"The… The what?" Lucia asked.

"It isn't important," Dante said quietly. "And no, this has nothing to do with that… Thing. We're just here because we know you were making trouble for the town nearby."

"Oh were we?" Actaeon asked as it stood up taller and put out its fists. "Perhaps they should not have built on my dog's land!"

From the multiple metallic weapons strapped to its arms it fired twin blasts of the same pink bolts as his servants. Dante was agile enough to dodge most of the blasts but Lucia was thrown into the air in one of the earliest shots. When she hit the sand again she wiped at her mouth and stared at Dante, confused. He was a decade out of practice and yet he was able to get around Actaeon's shots while hardly seeming like he was trying. Actaeon's attention seemed to shift solely to him for a little while. Lucia, not one to be pulled from battle, dodged towards the back of him and began throwing daggers into its hind legs. She caught his attention for a few moments as he jerked around and rammed his fist into the sand, the round erupting in an explosion of pink lightning, sending blasts of energy through Lucia's body and throwing her away from combat once again.

Actaeon turned to Dante yet again and began firing at any spot he dodged to before extending both fists towards them and firing a constant stream of the energy at the ground around him, forcing him to run faster and faster to evade the blast.

Dante studied the monster intently as it continued to fire at him, studying a way to possibly cut him off. Having wielded a weapon such as Artemis years ago himself, he knew they could only fire for so long. Sure enough, the stream of lightning gave way after about two minutes, Dante not reacting right then, but taking note of it.

When Actaeon took fire at him again, he carefully timed the length of the blasts in his mind, running quickly to avoid the constant stream again as he made his way towards the demon's hind legs. As soon as the weapons seemed to short out, he made a lunge at the nearest leg and stabbed it with his claymore, just above the hoof. Actaeon did nothing to acknowledge the attack, but it didn't matter, that wasn't what the attack was for. Dante used his claymore to force himself upwards and grabbed onto the tangled mass that was the demon's fur. Re-equipping his claymore, he pulled his way up faster and faster as Actaeon tried to shake him off, his grip refusing to surrender. Upwards he scaled, showing no quit in him. He reached the giant demon's back in only a few minutes and didn't waste any time getting himself balanced. Actaeon continued to shake and convulse, commanding him to get off his back. Dante knew he would not have much time to make the strike he needed to, and swiftly made his way to the point where man and stag seemed to connect.

As if he knew the creature's insides to a T, he stabbed through its human-like back, right into the center. Any mortal blade would barely have penetrated the monster's skin, but the sword in his hands was not so limited. It cut straight through into bone. Actaeon roared and roared as he hacked at the spot again and again until the bone began to splinter and shatter until it broke into a million pieces. Dante retreated backwards a little and grabbed ahold of Actaeon's stag hairs again, bracing for impact as the creature's back legs gave out, his spine crushed.

When he hopped off its back he made his way forward again to face the crippled creature, Actaeon's rage now in full swing. Standing now at only about fifteen to twenty feet tall, Dante knew the fight would be far more even from there.

"You will pay for my legs!" Actaeon roared, resuming fire now that he was in sight.

Still a bit disoriented from the attack on the beast's back, Dante took the full force of a few blasts from the energy guns mounted on the monster's arms. Sand and dust were thrown up violently as he continued to fire over and over again, scorching the desert they stood on and paying no more heed to anything around them.

It was then Lucia entered the fray again, quick with her throwing daggers and a few more of her grenades into the upper, fleshy part of Actaeon's back. The demon tried to turn and face her, but as he could not maneuver below his waist, he couldn't get a good look. Still unwilling to let her make a fool of him, Actaeon threw his arms behind his back and began firing blindly, doing anything he could to try and get a hit on his other elusive foe, his eyes still trying to get on her.

His attention gone from Dante, the former demon slayer regained his composure and made a dash at his enemy again.

A fast, stinging stab was delivered right into Actaeon's navel. Unable to think straight with his two constant attackers, Actaeon threw a punch towards Dante, who managed to dodge it out and he only managed to bury his own fist into his stomach, smashing through his internal organ as he did.

Knowing the old Artemis weapon inside and out, Dante lunged at Actaeon's fist and and began to channel his own demonic essence through it. It was far more exhausting than usual, due to its massive size, but he still managed to activate it.

The claw-like appendage at the end of the weapon opened fully and began to spin at incredible speeds. Actaeon stared down and his eyes filled with horror as he screamed, "No!"

With that, a giant sphere of the pink energy blasted through the lower part of his body, completely burning through his insides as he roared with pain. Dante dodged to the side as the giant, roaring demon collapsed into the desert sand, dead.

Lucia made her way to the front, wiping some sand off of her face and smiling, admiring their work.

"What do you suppose it'll cost to get this trophy mounted?" She asked with a chuckle. Dante did not give her a reply, only sliding his sword back into place and making his way back towards town.


	8. Chapter 8

AN- Hey folks! Sorry for all the delays regarding this sucker, but I've been tragically busy as of late... With what you may ask? Ask the bottom of this chapter. I also promise to speed things up from here, sorry about that!

So, quickly, quietly and simply enough the car was obtained, all of Lucia's contact information passed on and every right to deliver hell unto her phone lines given to the man running the small shop. The day had already been tiring however and the two opted to rent a place for the night before picking up business in Dumary.

There was little discussion as they settled into a little two-bedded motel room, Lucia flipping through channels of bad movies and sitcom reruns as Dante quietly laid down to sleep. Beds had been unusual to him even before his more solitary years, and, in the great comfort by comparison to his old desk, he fell asleep quickly.

"So much for being abandoned… Maybe it has been for a little while… But I don't think the Order's posse got everything…"

"Or the lights have just been on for a few hundred years… I've seen weirder stuff at this point."

"Still, keep your guard up, this place would have been nothing short of a total spawning ground for those things."

"Yeah yeah kid, I hear you, I hear you."

Dante and his three companions for the day had made their way through a forest grown atop volcanic ash and soot, most all of the trees appearing dead an ancient, leaving his party with a disdainful air that seemed to predict dark omens in and of itself. Dante led his group, hands slipped into his red leather trench coat and eyes looking into a lit cavern leading down into the earth just a few short miles from the mountain Kyrie had mentioned. By his side were his increasingly long time associates, Trish and Lady, the first bearing a sword of legend, and the second carrying a launcher that Dante treated as such. Bringing up the rear, eyes darting to and fro, surely the most mindful of the hellish woods was another, younger man in a long coat and a head of white hair.

Though he would not admit it and only showed it subtly, Dante was mindful or him. Exactly who he was the demon hunter did not know for sure, but the similarity of their features kept the young man on his mind. Short years ago, maybe it would not have mattered as much, but as he grew older, Dante knew he would have to acknowledge it to himself: The boy may have been of his blood. And if he was, he may well be the last of the line outside of himself.

"Nero," Dante called, turning and seeing his attention turned back into the forests, "Let's go man, if they're throwing us a party down there, I'd hate to keep them waiting."

"Whatever you say old man," Nero said with a small smirk, sliding his one great, glowing demonic hand into the pocket of his coat. Without another word they made their way down into the cavern, nothing to note but the constant movement of their own shadows against the torches that lit the way.

There was little conversation as the procession made their way deeper and deeper into the ground. Heads turned periodically, making sure nothing was going to try and ambush them as they continued, the tiny, earth-formed stairway sure to be a horrible place to do battle. But, contrary to expectations, no one came into sight.

Finally some more light began to illuminate at the bottom of the stairway. The four all gripped their respective weaponry, slowly walking into the artificial light.

Though as always his surprise was far less impressive than those of his companions, even Dante could not help but raise an eyebrow at just what stood before them. No longer were they walking through caverns, they now stood before an entire city illuminated by a number of torches, old houses and huts and what appeared to be several destroyed chapels positioned all about the underground.

"Damn," Nero said under his breath. "It… How do you keep a place like this stable down here?"

"And just how long do you think its been here?" Lady said, looking around, hand lowered to one of her guns.

"You never know, who knows how long Mallet was there," Dante pointed out. "Hell's architects must get paid a lot more, that's all I can say."

Trish's eyes scanned the city, looking for some kind of lead before she referred to the biggest, most dilapidated looking building, sitting just in front of the city's square. "That may be the place we want to start."

The building was nothing less than hellish, gothic scaffoldings and gargoyles with violent looking faces staring down at them. A number of stained glass windows were all shattered. The doors to the chapel appeared to be made of carved onyx, massive and heavy and imposing. Dante smiled, nodded and motioned his group follow behind.

"That's the spirit," He said, raising a foot and kicking the gigantic door with force enough the blow it wide open. The inside of the chapel was splashed with long dried blood, torches knocked from their places and old weaponry scattered all about.

But in the very center of the chapel was a great statue, its hands raised towards the sky and staring upwards, more dried blood on the great marble figure.

"Just what the hell is that thing?" Nero asked.

"Well then, that explains a few things," Dante said quietly.

He was about to say more when there came a rustle outside the chapel. All four of them jerked backwards to see several ancient looking, dilapidated human beings snarling at them, drool dripping down their lips as if they were all rabid, clenching their fingers into the dirt.

"About time!" Dante said with an overdramatic bow, "Are you guys here to show us to our table?"

"Blasphemers!" The woman nearest to them screeched. "How dare you walk on sacred ground! How dare you!"

Dante slipped out one of his pistols out of its holster and pointed it at the growling woman, barking at her to settle down. Before he could do anything more the woman rushed at him, her skin suddenly appearing to burn up and fire seemingly spewing from her mouth, little but a skull left by the time she rushed at him.

Dante put a bullet into the skeletal creature's head, knocking her backwards and killing her in a moment. The others behind her seemed to burst from their skins, revealing more burning skeleton creatures and approaching them quickly, more and more of them rushing into the chapel, all of them taking on a similar transformation to the first as they crowded in.

All four of the demon hunters armed themselves, prepared to fight off the army of the Plutuson.

Dante awoke in a quiet fit of shock, cold sweat dripping from his forehead.

They were not thoughts he wanted to linger on.

So, what is it I've been away doing all this time? Check out my audiobook of Scott Pilgrim!

watch?v=rFjno0IZBiQ

watch?v=SM8WAIqFylg

watch?v=_FBWOJxncqw

watch?v=JLtp8rkuhMA


	9. Chapter 9

Dante smashed into the breaks of the beat up rental, throwing him and Lucia a ways forward as he pulled the car to a screeching halt. Lucia's lips parted in horror as they stared off into the horizon.

Visible a few miles off the coast they had just driven to was a massive billow of smoke and fire. Sounds of destruction reverberated strangely far as steel and screams could be heard faintly from the shore. The island of Dumary was under attack, and it was all too clear it was losing.

"No… No!" Lucia screamed, jumping out of the car. "My- My mother is there! We- Dante we have to get back to the island! I leave for one week and this is what happens?!"

Dante got out of the car and searched about for some means of traversing the miles of sea before them. Surely no boater would take them there himself, but perhaps they could prove themselves persuasive enough.

"Luce, do you see anything around that could get us there? You're right, we can't leave Matier on her own on this… We just need some way to-"

He was interrupted by a dragonic roar from across the water. Both Dante and Lucia turned and stared as a figure on a great skeletal stallion rushed towards them, its body alight in a fire of white, racing across the ocean closer and closer to them. Dante yelled to Lucia to dodge out of the way as the man on the horse pulled at its reigns and jumped down from it. The demon was at least ten feet tall and tremendously fat, rolls of it jiggling as it stood up straight. The monster looked like a man turned inside out, some muscle poking out from beneath the disgusting white that composed most of his form.

"At last, the great Dante has graced us with his presence!" The demon cackled, holding himself as he did.

"And just what are you supposed to be?!" Demanded Lucia. "What have you done to my home?!"

"Both of those come to the same answer," the demon replied. "Conquest."

"Wha… What?" Lucia asked, still trying to sound threatening.

"I am Conquest," the demon replied. "And what has happened to your home?" He reached to the side of his skeletal horse and drew a spear, making a motion with it, "Conquest."

Lucia still appeared confused, but Dante took it upon himself to step between her and the demon. "Leave them be. I know he sent you after me."

Conquest only continued to laugh. "It is in my title, foolish worm. I was hoping you've be back by now, considering Ziz failed to return."

"Just who are you sick bastards working for?" Lucia demanded, taking her stance.

"Has he not told you? Oh you deserve to know girl. He is the rising God of this pathetic little world. He is the crown prince of Hell and Earth. You'd do best to learn his name child, The Plutuson will take no mercy on the ill-informed when he makes his grand return!"

At this Dante lashed out and clashed his sword against Conquest's spear, the giant fat demon repelling him in one swift motion.

"And if you dare think you can interfere… Go ahead and try. And you can begin by saving your little island!"

And with that Conquest mounted his horse with speed too great for one of his size and again beat at its reigns as he headed back towards Dumary.

"We have to stop him!" Lucia cried. "But… But how?"

Dante looked back at the beat up old rental for a moment before saying, "I think he wants us to follow along."

"He what? Dante there's no way we can-"

Dante tossed her the keys and hopped in the front seat of the car, yelling that she would have to hurry. Still not sure what he was planning, Lucia rushed in and started the car.

"Follow him," Dante said sternly.

"What- Into the ocean? That horse may be able to run on the waves but we can't!"

"Just give it a try, and now!" Dante shouted.

With only a moment more of hesitation, Lucia hit the gas and the car lunged towards the sandy beach. Dante rolled down his window and kept two fingers crossed as he tried to take aim at Conquest, who was getting farther and farther away.

To their surprise and relief, the car was soon running right along the water, though rolling with limited traction as if it was ice. Dante took aim with his pistols and fired a few lightning-like bullets towards the galloping foe. A few bullets hit but seemed to just bounce off his great girth. They could hear his cackle as they tried to speed towards him, his undead horse only galloping faster and faster than any live one could. With a raise of his spear a number of other heavy demons appears before them. Lucia could do little to slow down and she smashed right into several, knocking them into the ocean around them. It took precious seconds for her to regain control of the wheel, ample enough time for Conquest to raise his spear and summon more of the weighty abominations.

"He's trying to run us off his path," Dante said, reloading one of his guns. "They're just here to sacrifice themselves, damage the car, all that."

"What do you suggest?" Lucia asked.

"I don't know," he said, reaching into the back seat and grabbing his shotgun, "But maybe it was good you convinced me not to pawn this thing."

With that he leaned out the window again at the upcoming wave of demons and took a few precise shots at their heads, blasting them right off whenever he hit. Their bodies remained in the way, but at least they weren't crashing with the car head on if they were just laying down dead.

It only took a few minutes in the pursuit of Conquest for them to approach the shore, their foe now oddly stopping with his calling of demons as he turned his horse sharply as he reached the sand.

"It must be a trap… But we still need to follow him."

"Um, Dante," Lucia said with some hesitation, he turning as she did. "I… I can't break! We're good as speeding on ice!"

Dante realized the implications as he stared up the shore, seeing a line of beachside storage spaces they would surely crash into. "Grab ahold of the door," he said sternly.

"Are you suggesting we have to-"

"No time, now!" He yelled.

The two threw their doors open and rolled out of the speeding vehicle as it continued onward, smashing into a large steel building and practically dismantling itself in the crash.

Lucia managed to get herself up and wipe some sand off, going to Dante and offering him a hand up thereafter. Both on their feet, weapons equipped, the two stared down the horseman, prepared to punish him for his assault on Dumary.

Author's note: Hey loyal readers, hope this is all still treating you well. Maybe you've figured out the direction I'm going in, maybe you haven't… Maybe you've figured out a few motifs and the sort. Maybe you even think you know what to expect from this Plutuson thing I keep mentioning =P. Only time will tell.

As before, I'm just gonna hook you guys up with some of the other stuff I do, just in case you're curious…

My Creepypasta page, where I have enjoyed writing various psychological or otherwise just vile tripe =P: wiki/User:MJTR (Be warned, some of my work on this wiki is HIGHLY NSFW)

And my Youtube page, where I am currently putting together Scott Pilgrim: The Audiobook: user/HalfwayBeret


	10. Chapter 10

Both of them struck the giant's spear at once, the giant throwing them in opposite directions. Lucia was the first to respond as she whipped several darts from her belt pouches, piercing Conquest but he seemingly giving it no mind. He turned to her however and rushed towards her with his spear. Lucia managed to dodge the rush but Conquest whipped upward quickly and slashed into her upper body. She winced for only a moment before she took several slashes at him with her cutlasses, again biting into the fat, but not causing any real damage. Growing increasingly desperate to get a response out of him, she forced herself to flip backwards as he took another slash at her. His head lowered a bit after the attack, Lucia kicked him in the jaw with enough strength to twist the neck of a lesser demon, though only provoked him to grin. Conquest grabbed her foot and put her to the ground in a single motion.

"Persistent little girl aren't you?" He asked, pinning her and licking his lips.

A moment later ripples seemed to overtake his flabby form as gunshot after gunshot was fired behind them. Conquest turned a bit as Dante slipped his guns back into their holsters, ran at the horseman and drop kicked him in the face, not doing any real damage but forcing him off his partner.

"Dante, thank you," she said, straightening herself up.

"Only I get to lie on you like that," he said under his breath. Lucia starred at him for a moment before bursting into a fit of laughter for a few moments. Dante smiled faintly himself, glad he had not let the opportunity pass.

Dante then took the reins of the fight and took several slashes at Conquest, being caught a few times before managing a solid stab right into the giant's stomach. Some spurts of blood and a grimace finally confirming some damage was finally dealt, but a gigantic backhand from the beast threw him off. Rebellion was still stuck in Conquest's body and the demon still gave it no real interest. Conquest raised his spear over his head and stabbed downward, Dante managing to roll away from the demon but his black jacket was pinned down by the spear, trapping him in place, allowing the demon to kick him right in the ribs several times. Having him downed Conquest raised his spear again and stabbed him in the shoulder, a blast of blood gushing as he took the hit.

"Is this all the legendary son of The Legendary Dark Knight can muster?" Conquest cackled, twisting his spear and bringing a painful look to his foe's face.

Lucia managed to jump onto the giant's back, wrapping her arms tight around its neck and tried slashing at his throat with her cutlasses, but his too-fast shaking and tossing left her struggling to hang on. As he tried to force her off of himself, Dante reached up and grabbed the demon's spear, pulling it out of his shoulder and used it to push himself to his feet.

Conquest managed to throw Lucia off of him with enough jerking about, only for Dante to smash him in the face with the back of his own spear. Blood dripped down Conquest's mouth as he forced himself upward again just as Dante drew his shotgun and blasted its shells right into his face. He shook and stepped backwards as Dante was splashed with a wave of blood. Still on the offensive, he swung the demon's spear around and stabbed him again, this time in the center of his chest, just above Rebellion.

To his surprise and irritation, even this barely hurt the enemy before him. Conquest reeled at an angle and smashed his fists into his face several times over, Dante sure he could feel welling beginning with each strike. Conquest then continued by wrenching his spear from his chest and running it through Dante's chest. He finally cried out in pain as the demon lifted one of his big, fat feet and kicked the end of his spear, forcing it all the way through Dante' body and dropping him to the ground, his lips red with blood.

"Worthless little whelp," Conquest taunted, crossing to his opposite side and grabbing his spear again. "Your face is next!"

Dante tried to adjust himself to the situation and figure a way to defend himself, but there was no need. He could faintly see Lucia behind him with her cutlasses. He could make out a few slashes, followed by one that finally again made the demon wince and, a moment later, roar in pain.

Conquest whirled around, snarling at her as Lucia took a few more slashes at him, all too quick for him to respond to him, not that he seemed to notice them. But he did seem to notice, with horror, when she made a stab and gouge with her cutlasses. She managed to carve out a large section of his fat, revealing a red, gruesome inside, easily hacked into with a few more slashes by her cutlasses.

The demon continued to struggle with her as she repeated a few times over, always taking note of where she had cut so she could form triangles into his vulnerable insides. He managed to parry her a few times with his spear, but to little avail. Stab after stab pierced into the red flesh. When none of his slashes seemed to have any effect, Conquest threw his spear aside altogether and rushed at her, pinning her to the ground again and grabbing at her throat, attempting to strangle her.

Lucia wheezed and struggled, trying to push the grotesque creature off of her as breath after breath was kept from her.

"You will pay for that! You will-"

There were a few gunshots again from behind, this time directly into the wound Lucia had dug into Conquest's back, causing him to jerk upward and roar in pain.

Her moment finally upon her, Lucia caught her breath and wrapped her arms as tightly as she could around the demon and raised a boot to where Rebellion remained lodged into its stomach. With tremendous force she forced the claymore right through its stomach, straight to the other side.

Conquest's jaw shook, his whole body going stiff as he seemed to red up more than ever, clearly on his last few breaths.

Dante ran to Lucia and heaved her out from underneath the body of the beast just before he came crashing down, bloody, rigid and dead.

"Dante… Dante thank you," Lucia said, wiping at herself.

"No, thank you," he said, "You're the one who put that thing down." He bent down and collected his claymore from the corpse. "But we're not done just yet. We still need to get to Matier."

"Yes… Yes mother of course! She has been staying with me since my return, my place is just a few blocks from here, we should hurry!"


	11. Chapter 11

Lucia and Dante rushed in over the broken door to Lucia's apartment, both of them staring in shock.

Tables and chairs were overturned, weaponry was spread across the floor, the windows were punched out. The entire place was a mess, arranged in complete disarray. In the center of the room was some kind of talisman pressed into the center of the rug and next to it was a small, beaten body, blood dripping from it.

"Mother!" Lucia cried, running and taking ahold of it. She shook the little body in her arms, crying at it her to wake up. "What… Who? Who did this Mother? Who?"

Dante gently stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder as she held her closer and closer, a knot tying in her throat and tears in her eyes.

"It was Conquest and those damn things wasn't it! Mother… Mother we killed him… Please Mother… Please wake up!"

Dante looked upward as Lucia continued to plead to the lifeless body, noticing static on the television set and an old fashioned video camera sitting on top of it.

"Luce," he said, stepping towards it and noting a VHS in the side slot. "I… I think she left us something." Lucia didn't respond, still sobbing as he took the tape out and slipped it into the VCR. Lucia only finally looked up when Matier appeared on the screen, looking solemn.

"Lucia… My daughter, if you're seeing this than it was already too late… It is not you my child, I promise. I swear. It was not you." Lucia tried to regain her composure enough to look up. "I know I sent you out to find the Son of Sparda and convince him to come here… Dante, if you are with her, and I pray you are, you must also heed my words."

"A great and horrible prophecy is coming to pass… I have felt it in my bones for all too long, but I just wanted to believe I was wrong… But I have seen the demon Conquest in our city today. I know it must be so… Conquest is the first, the first of the four horsemen, whose presence will mark the end of our world… They are servants. Harbingers of the will of The Plutuson, an ancient demon finally given shape. The beast said to bring about the end of earth and Hell… Somehow, I fear you already know just what this creature is."

"Dante," Lucia said, trying to regain her composure, "What… What is that? Why do we keep hearing about it?"

"I'll… I'll explain when the video is over," he said quietly.

"I am sure I will not make it through this day… Do not weep for me Lucia," she said, beginning to tear up herself but wiping the droplets away quickly. "All I have ever done I have done for the good of this world… Maybe there will be a reward for that, when all is said and done…" There was suddenly a number of crashing sounds very near to her and the echo of numerous creatures running up stairs. "There is no time left… Dante, The Plutuson is within a palace in Hell, but he cannot return fully until the Four Horsemen have cleared the way by reinvigorating four Hell gates. Your best chance is to kill him before he can escape! The entrance to his palace is in some kind of underground city, to the south of a small theocracy across the sea called Fortuna… I believe you have been there before." Dante nodded ruefully.

"I'm so sorry I cannot tell you more," she said gently, wiping at her eyes again. "I know… I know you can stop him… Together I believe you can do anything… I know this because you're your father's son Dante," she smiled as best she could, "And Lucia… You're your mother's daughter."

The words barely escaped her mouth when the door behind where she had recorded was broken down. Something deep and black as jet stood on the opposite side of the door, tall, with what appeared to be a cape flowed into its shadowy form, what looked like droplets of ink ascending upwards from its body. Matier swallowed hard and turned.

"And what have you come for then?" She asked. "Come to kill me so your dear horsemen can help put your gate back together? I do not fear you you foul creature… You will never succeed, do you hear me?" The creature did not respond. "Go ahead then… Because there are others who will avenge me… Go ahead and build the motivation you monster… Do what you came here to do!"

With that the creature put out an arm and Matier was run through with what could well have been a hundred needle-thin swords. She did not scream, she only gasped for a moment as the demon jerked his arm back and she fell to the ground, surely already dead.

The demon just stood there for a moment before it approached the camera, finally coming into focus. Some of its facial features were faintly discernible, but they didn't mean anything to Lucia. All that was immediately were three pulsating red eyes, two in their normal places and a third on the forehead, bangs brushed aside to reveal it.

"Dante," the inky shadow said in a slow, distorted voice in a mocking tone. "Come back… We have unfinished business… Come back!"

And with that the video gave way to static.

"What… What was that thing?" Lucia asked through her sobs. "Was… Was that-"

"Was that him?" Dante replied. "Yeah… Yeah that was him. At least as much of him as he could get into our world."

"That monster!" Lucia screamed. "We… We're going after him! We have to! We-"

Both froze at the sound of a gun being cocked. They both turned slowly to see a woman with orange hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a red, hooded jack partially unzipped with a black shirt underneath and a pair of deep blue slacks, the gun in her hand what appeared to be a customized revolver. Slung over her shoulder was a bizarre looking sword, its handle almost appearing like it was taken from a motorcycle. Dante had to double take when he saw it all.

"Wait a minute… Kyrie?" He asked in disbelief. She stared at him confused for a moment before responding:

"Dante?"

The three held their positions for a few more seconds, Lucia trying to figure out what in the world was going on before Dante said, "What… What are you doing here?"

"I… Okay first things first," she pointed the revolver towards Lucia. "Are you aware she's a demon?"

"I don't know Kyrie, am I aware I'm half of one?" He asked, rolling his eyes.

"And… And you're sure you can trust her?"

"She used to live with me for God's sake, put the thing down already!"

Kyrie looked at Lucia intently for another moment before sliding the gun back into its holster. "So," Dante began, "What are you doing all the way out here?"

"I've been seeking something… Ever since what happened ten years ago."

"Was… Was that when you tried to retire?" Lucia asked.

"Yeah," Dante confirmed. "Are you… Are you hunting demons now?" He could hardly believe what he was seeing. Kyrie nodded slowly.

"I went through my brother's old notes again and again… I got good at it all… A few years ago I found another of Sanctus's old tomes about The Plutuson… That's what led me here."

"Alright enough already!" Lucia screamed. "What… What in the name of all things is this Plutson thing everyone keeps going on about!"

"You haven't told her?" Kyrie asked, surprised. "She lived with you after what happened… And she doesn't know?"

"Kyrie, I don't want to know what happened," Dante said bitterly. "Look… The city's been under attack by some fat freak on a horse… I don't think this is the best place to discuss matters-"

"No!" Lucia protested. "Dante my- My mother is dead! I deserve to know what happened! What did this!"

"Lucia, I'm going to tell you, alright," he asserted. "Right after we get out of here, alright? Hell, Kyrie will tell you if I don't. But right now we need to get out… Kyrie how'd you get here?"

She reached into one of her pockets and held up a talisman of some kind. "This," she replied. "I studied the old ways of the demons and learned how to craft it. It can allow travel near particularly powerful Hell gates."

"Good," Dante said. "All things considered… You better get us to Fortuna. I'll explain everything from there."


	12. Chapter 12

[[Author's note- As I have been on a writer's kick like I haven't been in ages now, I am aware I am writing this incredibly quickly. Make sure you don't miss a chapter in amongst my constant updating through. I like my small details to have epic payoff =P ]]

"I've spoken with the groundskeeper. It has been set, we may bury your mother within our cemetery," Kyrie said, returning to Dante and Lucia, the latter giving her a half-hearted smile.

"Thank you," she said weakly.

The three were gathered in a small gathering space within the Fortuna Opera House, a place Kyrie had seized as her base of operations. Much of the former rule of The Order of the Sword had been dismantled since its last leader was defeated more than a decade before. The citizens of the city struggled for a time without any true government, but soon managed to settle on new elected officials who cut all ties back to The Order. Their previous monuments and hideaways were mostly broken down and given little mind to.

"And now," Dante sighed, "You deserve to know… What this whole thing has been about." All was quiet as he looked down and began his summary.

"Do you remember what Conquest called The Plutuson? The 'Crown Prince of Hell'? That's not an inaccurate way to put it… As you already know, my father rose up against the emperor of Hell, a great, powerful demon named Mundus. Mundus had several names and titles… The Prince of Darkness, The Devil King… And Pluto."

"A particular group of Mundus's fanatics knew him particularly by that last name… Some of them settled on a distant island called Mallet, but some found their way here, close to The Order of the Sword, a society who worshipped my father as a God. The two cults raged and warred against each other for some time, until in a great attack the group of Mundus worshippers were buried under the lava of a volcano eruption."

"But some of them survived," Kyrie said coldly. "Survived for centuries down there, pleading with their dark lord for strength… No outsiders were allowed and they never dared leave, waiting for their master to come into their presence."

"But… But centuries?" Lucia asked. "How could they keep having children?"

"Don't linger on that question too long," Dante said. "I don't think you'd really like the answer…"

"They just prayed and waited… Mundus promised them one day, he would make one of them his mistress, that one of them would bear a son who would slaughter the dirty worshipers of Sparda who had buried them, and all others who refused to bow to the tricloptic freak."

"Kyrie called me and some others in when she discovered The Order had known about that prophecy… That we should enter that ancient underground and ensure their plan would never come to fruition."

"Well that's what we did… We were confronted by a number of beastly inbred cultists, caught somewhere between man and demon after all they did to themselves with the power Mundus gave them… We got through a lot of them, fighting them off inside a giant chapel to Mundus in the city's center… It all seemed too easy… But we never would have thought just how late we were…"

"The chapel was covered in long dried blood… That was when we should have known… The Plutuson had been born years before we arrived. In his first minutes out of the womb he slaughtered everyone present at his birth. His mother. A high priest. Everyone. He was already so powerful… But he was just waiting. Waiting for a day his father foretold, when the Son of Sparda would come… That killing him would mark his rise, his ascension, to overtake the human and demon worlds… I managed to defeat him that day and toss a wrench in old man Mundus's plans… But at a terrible price."

Dante looked down, trying to keep himself together as he continued, "I'm the only one who made it out alive… My partners… Trish and Lady, I know you know about them… Gone. Killed minutes after he made his entrance." Lucia held a hand to her mouth in shock. "They didn't even give him any challenge… He ran them right through… Just like Matier."

"And Nero-" Kyrie tried to say.

"Nero lasted the longest," Dante said, barely able to do so. "We tried to fight him together… But even Nero didn't stand a chance… I had to throw everything, and I mean everything at him… Blasts from Lady's old launcher, Nero's gun and sword… I only finally beat him because I took my father's sword from Trish, even then only causing a few injuries and forcing him back through the gate, using the old thing to seal it shut… The devastation was horrible… Blood was everywhere… There… There wasn't even enough left to bury." He bowed his face fully into his hand as Lucia just stared at him, jaw quivering.

"I never wanted to go after these things again… Not after all I had lost… My parents… My brother… I thought I'd finally found a new family in those three… But that too was just wrenched away from me… I gave Kyrie some old things to remember Nero by… I took Killina Anne and integrated some pieces of Trish's pistols into my own, so I'd have my own keepsakes… Then I just went back to the shop and waited. Waited for death to come take me."

"I didn't even want to come to Dumary to stop Arius… But I wanted to be sure that monster wasn't involved anywhere… And he wasn't."

"My… My God Dante," Lucia said weakly. "I… I had no idea."

"Don't try to apologize," Dante said. "After all that… Getting out there… Working with you… It was the closest thing I had to feeling like myself again."

The three sat quietly for a few minutes, Lucia trying to accept the tale, Dante and Kyrie trying to force themselves to acknowledge it again.

"But it seems in spite of my best efforts, he's making his grand return," Dante said under his breath. "And if that's the case… I think it's clear there's only one way that we can respond."


	13. Chapter 13

Lucia and Kyrie had insisted on a little more preparation, a little more knowledge regarding just what it was everything had pointed to, but Dante insisted they need only bring themselves with him to the underground city. His argument may not have been so successful if he hadn't pointed out the increasing direness of the situation and that if Sanctus and Matier were any indication, The Plutuson would only be growing stronger and stronger and nothing like him could be allowed into the human world.

So they made their way to the south, to the cavern-like entrance to the underground city, looking no different than it had when Dante approached it a decade before. He cautioned the two that there could be a few of the partly-demonic cultists hiding around in the city, but they would be fine as long as they kept their guards up.

In spite of the warning nothing came to greet them as they descended down the stairway and made their way into the city square. All, Dante noted, was as it was when he left. Save, he was sure, for the chapel. He had to swallow to himself a little as he noted bullet shells laying on the ground they walked upon, knowing it was him and his allies that had put them there. And knowing just who the most preserved of the blood splashed across in the chapel belonged to. Again the black doors of the unholy temple were opened, and again Dante led a charge in.

All of the furniture in the room was either overturned or already rotting. Blood stained the ground and walls leading up to a tall marble statue in the room's center, depicting an angelic looking Mundus with his hands and three eyes raised towards the sky. At the base of the stained white statue was a sword, looking as if it was shaped from deep brown flesh and blood stabbed into the ground, a sinister surge of red light emanating below it.

"So what must we do?" Lucia asked.

"That's simple," Dante said quietly. "I used my father's sword as a sealing spike to ensure that thing could never get out… You're going to pull the sword out and I'm going to go in after him. Then you're going to put it back in place so nothing can get out."

"Wait you're… You're going in alone?" Lucia asked.

Dante nodded. "The sword needs to be put back in place. I'm not risking anything getting out."

"But there's two of us," Lucia protested, "Surely another could go in with you. For protection."

Dante then shook his head, "No. Resealing this thing will take the both of you. It may look simple, but it's very draining."

"But can that thing even get out?" Kyrie asked. "From what you've told me you know and my own information, it sounds like he can't come out without his horsemen setting up his escape."

"When I put the sword there there was no energy leaking out…Maybe he can't get out. But he can project himself out. We've seen that already."

"But… But can you even hope to fight him?" Lucia asked, still too scared by the whole matter.

"I'm not as strong as I used to be… But I can still do everything I could before in a pinch. And even then, he's as weak now as he'll ever be again if he's only getting stronger."

"What… What about escaping?" Lucia persisted. "How are we going to get you out?"

"You won't be," Dante asserted. They both looked at him in surprise. "No matter what happens… Do not pull the sword out again after I go in. Do you understand?"

"You're sure you can find another way?" Kyrie asked, not so certain. "Maybe you should take my talisman."

"No," Dante said. "I don't want any of them in there who don't have one getting any ideas."

"But Dante-"

"Lucia!" Dante stressed. "I know you're worried about me. I know you are… But I got out on my own once remember? And I beat this thing once too… I'll be alright. I promise… Have a little faith in me."

They were both quiet for a moment as Kyrie remained by the sword, ready to open the way before she called, "Dante, by the way," he turned to her. "Since we won't get a chance… Be sure to let him know what he's taken from us… For your friends. For Nero."

"And for my mother," Lucia said, turning so he could not see her. They stood quietly in the chapel another moment before Lucia swallowed and quietly said, "Dante?"

"Yes?"

She leaned in close and kissed him on the lips. He did not see it coming, but he did not fight it either. He reached a gloved hand out and clenched her arm for only a moment before she pulled away and looked into his eyes.

"For luck," she lied.

"For luck," he lied back.


	14. Chapter 14

In his several trips to the Demon World and back, Dante had never seen such a disturbingly uncanny resemblance between where the entered and where he exited and where he entered. When he looked down he could see the tip of his father's sword pointing out of the ground. He was standing in what could well have been the mirror image of the entry stairway. He looked out and saw the entire town, nearly identical in Hell as it had been on Earth. The same run down huts sat in town, the same path below him led forward, and a second chapel stood at the center of it all. And yet it was bitterly, eerily different. What appeared to be veins ran through the ground below him, the above that had on the other side been long hardened lava now seemingly shaped from flesh and human organs. Everything had a bloody red tint to it, the entire place looking like it was seen through a pair of red sunglasses. It was also just as quiet and seemingly abandoned. He tried not to dwell on any of these matters, knowing what he came to accomplish lied on the other side of the parallel chapel's doors.

Again he forced them open, this time making his way into what could well have been most any church in the mortal world, save for its coloration. Here the stained glass, depicting three hellish eyes remained unbroken. Pews and candles were still in place, not a drop of blood anywhere to be seen.

_The four hunters stood amongst a circle of devastated demonic bodies. Dante slipped Rebellion into the holster in the back of his coat. "That was all just too easy," he said, satisfied. "C'mon Mundus, you're losing your touch old man."_

Though most of the chapel seemed shaped from a black material like onyx, the same statue sat in the center, still carved from what appeared to be marble. The only discernible difference there was a great thorny throne that sat in the center of the Mundus statue's hands.

And a lone, red eyed figure looking down on him.

_Lightning seemed to flash within the underground. They looked upward at the great statue of Mundus, three blood red eyes formed in a triangle starring down at them._

_ "Dante."_

"Dante," the figure said in an eerie whisper, seemingly pleased. "I'm so glad you made it back."

"I've got nothing to say to you," Dante said sternly.

_"I've got about a million things to say to you," Dante taunted. "But how about we start with how you're holding up since I blew you away?_

Pulling Rebellion from its place on his back. The Plutuson cackled, rose from his throne and proceeded back into the statue, down a staircase in its center.

"Oh don't you? Who have you got holding the sword in place? Who's helping to keep me trapped in here?"

_"I'd love to rip you limb from limb you worm… But unfortunately, I underestimated you in our last battle…"_

_ "So I not only tossed you around, but what, did I break you into a million pieces too?" Dante found himself on the verge of laughing._

_ "Tragically… But unfortunately for you, Son of Sparda, my plans are far from finished."_

"That's not important," Dante said. "None of it is."

"Really? Because I'm sure I could make out a voice as you were speaking with your cohorts… A familiar voice… One of the dogs from the Order, I'm sure."

Dante did not respond as he stepped out from the bottom of the statue. Black, ink-like energy still seemed to emanate off of him, though he was no longer shaped from it. He could now be seen clearly. He wore a black trench coat, ripped and torn in numerous places. A pair of black pants were also visible, but the rest of his body appeared to be organic. "Those filthy little shits… Trying undo all my father's work."

_"As I was overwhelmed by the Son of Sparda, I have concluded how to bring an end to you… I have engineered my own heir!"_

_ "And all that after I destroyed your body?" Dante asked._

_ "After we destroyed your body?" Trish mocked along with him._

_ "Ah, you came to prevent the birth of my child… I'm sorry to disappoint you, but my son, my Plutuson, has already been bred. His wrathful nature is splattered across this room."_

His chest under his coat formed a deep V shape of scale-like red skin, raised upwards until it came up around his shoulders. Beneath those scales was what appeared to be some kind of off white color for, too pale for human skin, leading upwards into his neck. "Trying to keep me in place… Such naughty little children they all turned out to be… Trying to manipulate me."

"_So why don't you bring him out?" Dante asked, throwing his arms out. "I beat you, I'll beat your little brat. Bring him out already!"_

His hair was long and black, but the tips were a bright white. In spite of its length it was pushed back, emulating the statue of his father behind him and keeping the eye on his forehead visible. "Taking me from my home all those years ago… Trying to make me something I wasn't…"

"_But my Plutuson was ripped from the hands of my worshipers… Molded by hands of sacrilege, manipulated to reject his fate…"_

"Trying to stave off my father's plans… With the blood of his mortal enemy."

"_But those fools have only made my weapon even stronger!"_

The undersides of his eyes, all three of them, were deep and dark, almost looking smudged, but surely closer to blood vessels popped just below his eyes. "Sanctus was a fool… He only succeeded in making me stronger… As much as I have always hated everything that came down to your father Dante, his blood has suited me so well!"

_"And now you have gathered all of your allies… And my greatest foes, all in one place… You shall be the first to know my son's wrath!"_

"I can hear them talking again Dante… Maybe you can't, but I can hear every word… Have you told them who I am?"

_"How long are you going to keep yapping?" Dante demanded. "Bring him out!"_

_ "Oh do not fear… He's already here!" Mundus said, starting to cackle a horrible laugh._

"I told them you are The Plutuson," Dante said, making some distance, waiting for a good time to attack but knowing one such as The Plutuson would expect him to interrupt an opening speech.

"But my name Dante… Did you tell them my name?"

"You're name is not important."

The Plutuson threw back his head and laughed for a moment, closing his normal eyes but keeping his third focused the entire time. "Not important? Ha ha… Not important?"

With that he threw out one of his arms and instantly blasted Dante across the room. The veteran demon hunter was taken completely by surprise as I tried to regain his composure as The Plutuson grabbed him by the throat and thrust him against the wall behind them.

_Before any of them could comprehend what Mundus was getting at, there was a horrible, gushing sound. Every head turned towards Lady. Blood was spilling out her mouth, a number of thin black blades piercing her stomach. All calm was lost from Dante's face._

_ "No… No!"_

_ The blades were wrenched from Lady's stomach. She fell to her knees and clutched the great, horrible wound. She barely managed to turn around and point a pistol at the direction the blades had come from. "You… You monster!" She screamed, firing bullet after bullet. Dante and Trish ran up to the fading Lady as she clutched herself tight, tears in her eyes as she tried to get ahold of herself._

"Well then, there's no one to protect in here… You're free to say it… So what is my name Dante?"

Dante slipped out his Ivory handgun and fired at The Plutuson right in the center of his face. The discharge of electrical energy was enough to force him off, but failed to do any damage. The Plutuson only whooped with laughter.

_"I'll kill you… I'll kill you!" Trish screamed, whipping the great fleshy Sparda sword from her side and rushed towards the enemy opposite them._

_ "Trish no!" Dante yelled, cold sweat dripping down his face._

"Of course, Sister dearest's lightning. Has it aided you Dante? Or has it only kept the wounds fresh?"

"None of it matters now," Dante said, taking his stance.

_Trish was defeated in little over a minute. She collapsed next to Dante as he tried to keep Lady up. He looked at his two partners, genuinely shaking in horror for perhaps the first true time in his career. Mundus's horrible laugh echoed across the chapel._

"Oh I think it does matter," The Plutuson mocked. "Than if nothing else Dante… Answer me one question before we go into this… Who was the hardest to lose? Was it Trish, shaped in the same hideous visage as your bitch of a mother? Was it Lady, the one you kept so dear after losing your brother," he paused and smiled a salacious smile, raising a demonic, pulsating red hand and clenching his fist. "Or was it me?"

_"You…" Dante said, trying to retain some focus, unsure if he should try and fight the demon or remain by the side of his dying allies. "All this time… You…"_

Only one word could escape Dante's mouth. It was said with both harshness and sympathy, both disdain and regret, all at once. He swallowed and could find himself doing nothing but allowing the demon's name to slip past his lips.

"Nero."


	15. Chapter 15

Dante snapped out of the momentary daze of bitter thoughts and took a lunge towards his opponent. The Plutuson raised his glowing red arm and took the attack with ease, tossing him off a second later, the demonic hide refusing to be penetrated.

"It wasn't so hard, was it Dante?" He asked, taking a few steps forward. "I mean how could it be? We barely knew each other. You had no conception of where I came from… Or," he paused and reached across his chest, grabbing his sword with his black hand that sat on the opposite shoulder, "Was that why it hurt? Did you believe I was someone else?"

The blade was a thin longsword, with a bluish-silver coloring to it, its forward facing guard curving to form a guard. It was unimpressive compared with Dante's claymore, but the old hunter was wary of it nonetheless.

Nero made a lunge of his own and the two were quickly entangled in a blade lock, each trying to force the other away, but it was all too clear to Dante Nero was not pushing himself, still content to mock him in the heat of battle.

"Did you think I was someone else Dante? Did you think the white hair and inner drive made me your kin? Maybe I was your dear brother's kid… You know, before my old man put him down!"

"That's enough!" Dante barked, forcing him off and taking a few quick slashes at him. Nero's reaction was a little pained, but he gave no great response.

Nero gave him a little smirk as he paced around the chamber, keeping his three eyes focused the entire time. He kept quiet for a brief time, his sword in his left hand and his red right hand twitching as they continued their stance.

Dante broke the stare down as he whipped out Rebellion and struck at the ground, firing a bright red wave at Nero, which The Plutuson easily sidestepped and made a rush towards him again. Dante manage to parry the stinger and took a few more hacks at his opponent, still only barely cutting into his natural armor. Dante jumped backwards and made some space between the two of them and unloaded several rounds of ammo into Nero's chest. He gave it little mind, taking steps towards him as blood splashed with every bullet. He had closed about half of the distance between them before he threw out his demonic red arm again and blasted Dante into the air. The old hunter managed to regain his composure fairly quickly and swung down upon his opponent with a helm splitter, only to be parried again and threw himself back a little ways, trying to keep focused.

It was clear to him that if he was to defeat Nero again, the Devil Bringer was a liability to be disposed of.

Taking his stance with Rebellion again and rushed with a stinger of his own. Nero sidestepped the attack and threw out his glowing red hand again. This time Dante was too swift to be caught by it and managed to slide to Nero's side as the spectral hand made its ethereal swipe. Both hands on his claymore, Dante swung, the distance closed between them now, at the glowing red.

Nero accepted the attack to his hand, seemingly no damage done and nothing to show for it but a metallic clank reverberating through the chapel.

"Really now Dante?" He taunted. "You think you can break this thing?"

"Why not?" Dante asked. "I beat its original source!" With that he wrenched Rebellion from its position and grabbed ahold of the Devil Bringer, twisting it and eventually flipping Nero onto the floor, concluding by stabbing the claymore through the palm of the red hand.

For the first time in the battle Nero cringed and yelled in pain before an explosive red aura blasted from the center of his being, throwing Dante from his position and leaving him several feet away as The Plutuson pushed himself back to his feet.

"Crafty son of a bitch aren't you?" He snarled, gripping his hand. "Oh well, credit for the creativity… It must be so tragic swinging that old thing around, must it? What's wrong?" He slipped his longsword again from if place. Deep red demonic energy surged throughout the blade as it formed a large, bloody red axe-head, another eye in place at the top of the weapon, it too now starring at Dante. "Too nostalgic to try something new?!"

Both hands wrapped around the sword-turned-axe as he ran and swung at Dante, the latter catching the attack with Rebellion but the difference in the weapon's powers was clear, Dante thrown off in a moment and knocked onto his back, Rebellion knocked a foot or two away. The smile was menacing on Nero's face as he raised the axe overhead. Fast as he could Dante managed to draw Ebony and Ivory and took several shots right at the demon's eyes. Nero was forced to relinquish a hand to grab at the three of them, more irritated than actually hurt. Moment open, Dante elbowed one of Nero's legs, putting him to the ground and forcing him to drop his weapon. Always being a pragmatist in combat, Dante scrambled to his feet and grabbed the axe, throwing a mighty cleave of his own into the chest of his opponent.

When there was little response, Dante knew he'd only have another moment, and he ran to retrieve his sword. Nero stood up and just gave Dante another menacing glare as he grabbed the axe and wrenched it out of his chest, blood splashing all about but no response evident in his glare.

"Of all people Dante, you should know a demon's sword doesn't betray its master like that," Nero said, lowering the axe as it reverted to its sword form.

Dante didn't reply, he just took another slash at his former alley. Nero decided to humor him then, repelling and parrying the strikes as they came. Sweat was dripping down the old hunter's forehead as he swung again and again, each breath getting heavier as the swords met over and over.

"You pathetic- You're actually trying aren't you?" Nero cackled. Dante didn't reply as he kept on slashing, nothing getting past his opponent. "Come on… You could at least crack a bad joke! Other than your swordsmanship!"

He lifted a foot and booted him right in the chest, forcing Dante backwards a ways and gripping at his stomach. It was clear in spite of his efforts, he was not going to be able to best him the old fashioned way. When Nero rushed at him again, Dante jumped and landed with inhuman balance on the longsword's blade and threw himself upwards, balancing himself on the metallic frame of one of the chapel's chandeliers, producing one of his pistols and firing at the chain holding it in place.

He took a tight hold of the nearest piece of the chandelier he could as the great centerpiece crashed into the center of the room, crushing Nero's chest underneath the outermost frame. Dante stood up straight and adjusted his jacket a little, trying to figure how to keep the upper hand.

Before anything came to him another massive blast erupted from Nero's body, blowing the chandelier to pieces and throwing Dante against one of the room's walls. He struggled to open his eyes, knowing the blast would have at least permanently disabled any mortal, and still probably near-shattering some of his ribs. Judging by the immense pain in his stomach and the red flow as he clutched it, he was probably bleeding internally too.

"Oh come on!" Nero shouted, almost angry. "You drop a damn chandelier on me, one of the biggest clichés in the entire book, and you don't have a single one liner?! 'Can I trouble you for a light?' 'And here I didn't think you were too bright?' 'Light's out' for crying out loud!" Dante kept his silence as he studied his surroundings again, only further in sighting Nero's fury. "I wait a decade for you to show up and you do this to me?! You're sucking all the fun out of this!"

Dante opted to head for the upper level again, forcing his way up the pillars at the room's side as Nero continued to angrily rave.

"I wait all this time to kill you! _You!_ I wasn't waiting for your freaking stoic of a brother! I was waiting for you damn it!"

Dante positioned himself behind the frontal rails of the rafters, looking down and trying to figure what else could benefit him in the fight. A second chandelier swung farther up the room, near the Mundus statue, but he was sure it wouldn't be any more effective a second time.

"Damn it- DON'T YOU DARE IGNORE ME!"

Nero pointed his sword upward as it again began to surge with energy before transforming into a huge, metallic whip and swinging it upwards, the weapon wrapping itself tight around the rail and throw himself upwards. He didn't even hold onto the whip as he threw himself up, opting instead to punch Dante right in the face with the Devil Bringer, knocking him back so hard he was thrown out the stained glass window.

Before he even hit the ground, Nero had swung the whip again and the chain flew out the shattered glass and wrapped tight around Dante's throat. Nero jerked the whip back and the helpless Demon Hunter was yanked back into the church and was thrown across the room, from one rafter to the next and leaving him smashed into a wall again.

Nero's next lunge crossed the distance between the rafters and stabbed Dante directly in the chest. Blood spilling out his mouth when he fell forward, trying to keep breathing at all after the brutal assault. As he struggled Nero brought the Devil Bringer to his chin and raised it before slapping him across the face.

"If you're not even going to say anything back, why don't you at least try a little harder? I'll take you out either way, but come on. You know you can try a little harder!"

Dante hadn't tried his next move since everything had happened, but he knew it was his only option.

Dante let out a roar and managed to force Nero off of him as his body was consumed in a bright red. His hair was thrown upward, his skin a pulsating gray and his eyes a deep red, giving himself up to his inner demon.

"That's it… That's it!" Nero said with renewed vigor.

Fighting through the pain, Dante took a few swings at Nero again, still being parried, but forcing Nero to move more quickly. After the first several he finally made a few more successful slashes, Nero again showing just the tiniest sign of weakness. The attacks sped up, quick enough to nearly fade into invisibility until Nero retreated to the edge of the rafter. Dante took chase and swung again at him, Rebellion slashing through the metal rafter rail. The demonic Dante jumped at his opponent, Rebellion raised overhead and this time succeeded in his jumping attack, cleaving a bloody trail through Nero's chest.

Before Nero could hope to regain his stance, Dante pulled Ebony and Ivory from their holsters and fired again and again, pumping Nero full of bullets encased in reds and yellows. His chest was brutalized by the time the triggers were finished with and Dante again rushed with his sword and pinned Nero against the rafter's wall.

Dante was gasping for breath he was again overcome with red and his skin returned to their former pigment, his hair falling back in place and his eyes returning to their icy blue.

"Well now, that was exciting. Too bad it was over so quickly."

Nero delivered several more punches to Dante's face, forcing him and Rebellion away. A second later Nero put out The Devil Bringer again and blasted Dante over the edge of the rafter, knocking him down a story onto his back, this time multiple bones in his arms, maybe even his spine, cracked.

He could barely get his eyes open to see Nero jump from the rafter, longsword pointed towards the ground.

Nero's longsword fell down upon him and stabbed straight through his sternum. Dante couldn't even make a sound as he was further bloodied and, without question, completely defeated.

"Such a disappointment," Nero said under his breath, pulling the sword from Dante's chest and pointing the bloodied blade right at his face.

The sword again morphed into a whip and moved like a metal snake tight around Dante's neck, slicing the skin as it did. Nero squatted down and took an impressive jump, making it from the ground to the remaining chandelier in a single bound, yanking Dante upwards with him. With a second jump he landed again into the hands of the statue of his father, pulling the whip harder and harder, condensing its incredible length until Dante, caught in a hangman's noose, was eye to eye with him.

"There's no need to fear for the mortals Dante," Nero said softly. "I promise I'll only do what's fair… I'll make of your world what your father made of ours!"

With that Nero tapped the statue's hands a few times. There was a massive shake throughout the chapel as the floor of the chapel began to pull itself apart from the inside. A massive pool of black fire was revealed directly below where the two had done battle, Dante now hanging directly over it.

Nero twisted and pulled his whip blade again, the weapon relinquishing its grip on Dante's throat as the defeated warrior fell into the flames below, consumed by the burning black.


	16. Chapter 16

"….."

"…"

"….."

"…D…"

"…DA…"

"…D…..A…..N….T"

"D….A…NT….E…."

"DA…NT….E…."

" .E…."

"…DANTE…."

"Dante…. Dante….. Dante…."

"Dante… FI…ND… Find"

"FIN…D…H…ER."

"Find…. HER… Find.. Her."

"A…ND…. AND… Y… O…U…."

"And… AND YO…U…..SH…."

"You…. SHA….LL….SHALL…"

"You…Shall…FI….FIN…FIND…."

"ME"

Dante found his hand on his head as he struggled to regain focus, pain raging in the front of his skull. He looked around a little, confused. The last thing he could recall was a horrible, indescribable pain as he was consumed by black fire… Was that all just a dream? He pulled himself up, noticing he was lying in a bed and, upon looking under the comforter atop him, was naked. His eyes darted around the room, trying to figure just where he was and why.

"… Luce? Luce are you out there?" He called into the hall. There was no response. As he examined his surroundings he found no matter how he tried to think about it he didn't know where he was. The room looked big enough to be a master bedroom, a bathroom attached and a large mirror in the center just above a dresser. Next to the dresser he noted Rebellion, Ebony, Ivory and Killina Anne, but little else.

Eyes darting about to be sure there was no one else around, he uncovered himself and walked to the dresser, only to find it full exclusively with women's clothes. His eyes then turned instead to a closet door, sitting slightly ajar. Upon opening it he found a number of formal shirts and slacks, but after rummaging found some more casual ware and suited up, still occasionally calling down the halls to be sure no one was there.

Dante decided it best to find a calendar. Exactly what had been real and what had been nightmares he could not be sure, and was desperate for a way to confirm one way or the other. He made his way into the hallway and immediately noted all that was amiss. The place was at least a large house, probably closer to the size of a small mansion, given the size of the hallway he stepped into and the number of rooms leading to different parts of the place. Large chunks of the wood paneling were ripped from their place, as if some great typhoon had come within. Holes were in the ceiling, the ground was covered with debris and paintings laid broken and face down on the floor. Yet nothing was rotting. There wasn't even any dust. It assured Dante whatever happened within the place had not happened long ago.

And yet that notion was dispelled when he got a look at the place's kitchen. The parts of the place that were not dilapidated appeared very dated. There were no appliances but an old, old looking microwave. The refrigerator was an unpleasant lime green color and had a handle on it as if it was a safe and, examining the calendar he had sought, the one he found was over thirty years old.

"What the hell is all this?" He asked under his breath as a sudden chill came over him.

_"Dante… Find her… And you shall find me."_

"Who's there?" Dante demanded, turning around, paranoia slowly getting to him. Who had brought him here? What had truly transpired before he woke up? He needed to know.

_"Dante… Find her…"_

Dante followed the voice and chill down back through the hallway. It was a breathy whisper, difficult to hear at all, but he was sure he was getting closer.

_"Find her… And you shall… Find me…"_

Dante made his way through a sizeable library with books scattered all about before he came to a dead end in what appeared to be the house's den. A large, leather-bound red chair sat in the center of the room, some of the material stripped and the other chairs overturned.

_Dante. Find her, and you shall find me."_

Dante froze at the last reciting of the words and slowly approached a large fresco on the wall, miraculously untouched.

"Of all the places… Here?"

The painting depicted an aging, stern looking man in the red leather chair he had just walked past, dressed in what looked to be an almost ancient military attire. By his side was a woman with blonde hair pulled back into an undepicted ponytail, her dress and jewelry all strangely gothic in design.

The woman's hand rested on a small cloth basket where two infants lay, both of them with little heads of white hair.

_"Find her and you shall find me."_

"Of all places… Home?"


	17. Chapter 17

Dante took a long look at the old estate as he stepped outside. The grounds were overcome with weeds and long dead flowers, and yet like the interior, it all seemed strangely trapped in time.

He had not seen and only rarely thought of his childhood home since he was made to leave it. There was some urge in him to look through the place, venture into old rooms, just to see what was left standing, but he decided it better to not indulge those ideas until he discerned just where he was, when and just what was real.

To do that, he decided, he should follow the whispery voice. He headed out the gate of the grounds, towards the small town of Entia just before him.

Entia was a small but well off community of farmers and artisans. The fact that Dante had come from a manor a few miles up the road left him the odd man out in the town of craftsman, whose homes were mostly small and appearing aging, though still possessing a nice charm. He did his best to not garner anyone's attention as he walked down the dusty sidewalk, and only stopped once to speak with a man leaning against a convenience store, sipping an oversized drink from a plastic cup.

"'Scuse me," Dante started, hands in his pockets. "I'm visiting from out of town and was hoping you might be able to tell me where the cemetery is."

"That's an… Odd request," the young man said, tilting his head. "But alright, you gotta go up the road another few miles, see? Just straight on is fine. When things start to get, you know, hilly, you're about there, it'll be on your right."

Dante thanked him and went on. He'd have paid the man for his service, but didn't have his wallet (or indeed, anything he usually kept in his pockets) on him.

So he continued his silent pilgrimage up the nostalgic road. Once in a while a car would pass, but he had the road mostly to himself. Few people drove in the town when he was a child, fewer were driving then.

No one interrupted him as he made his way into the great, gated graveyard. Noises seemed to stop altogether as he made his way in scanning the names on the gravestones, stopping once in a while to better examine one, falling onto a knee to confirm what he was seeing before standing again and moving on.

He finally came to the grave he was seeking in a reasonably unused part of the cemetery. No graves were in the near vicinity, but he could make out that there were two areas likely intended for graves on either side. On top of the stone was some kind of golden colored bangle, the text just below. The gravestone read, very simply,

_Evelyn "Eva" Isabelle_

_ Friend, wife and mother_

_ La speranza e l'ultima a morire.  
Hope is the last thing to die._

Dante forgot for a moment just what he had come for as he stared at the old stone, having some trouble keeping his composure as he looked on.

"She was gone too young."

As fast as he could he raised a hand to his eyes and turned. An old man was standing beside him at the grave, dressed in a worn out jacket and carrying a walking stick, a face of white hairs upon him.

"Are… Are you the one who-" Dante caught his tongue before he finished asking the question and just changed his response to, "… Yes… Yes she did…" He put a hand out to the old man. "Anthony Redgrave."

"Bah!" The old man said, "Don't give me any of that. I already know who you are."

"Everyone seems to these days," Dante muttered, rolling his eyes. The man took his hand nonetheless.

"Abati," the man said. Dante gave him an odd look for a moment, "I know your name is Dante, don't pretend it's _so_ unusual."

"I'll admit, I've never met another Dante or an Abati in my life. Guess you've got me there… I suppose you know why I'm here then."

"To pay your respects," Abati said, looking at the grave himself. "Of course… To pay your respects," he slipped a hand into his pocket and produced a wallet. "To your mother." Out from it he produced a small, folded over piece of something and proceeded to unfold it and hand it off to Dante.

He double took when he saw the picture. There she was, the sly little smile on her face, dressed in red with her long blonde hair draping over her shoulders. There was Eva.

"How… Where did you get this?" Dante asked, glaring at the man.

"In the mail. She sent one to me every year. I never replied or anything… But I kept them anyway."

"Why… Why was she sending you photographs?" Dante asked as the man unfolded another and handed it to him, this one with the same two white haired babies from the portrait. "Who are you?"

"I told you," the old man said, "I am Abati. And I have these photographs because my big sister sent them to me."

Dante was about to ask another question before he caught his tongue and froze in disbelief, a little smile coming across the old man's face. "You mean… She was… You are-"

"Eva Isabelle was my elder sister. And you, Dante, are my nephew."

A quiet overcame them as Dante just stared at the old man, unsure of just how to respond before finally saying, "My uncle…? Why… Why have I never heard of you before?"

The old man sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'll tell you on our way back."

"Back- Back to where?" Dante asked.

"Back to your parent's home. There is someone waiting for you there."

"Are you saying you aren't the one who told me to come here?" Dante asked.

"I didn't tell you to come. But I was told to meet you."

"By who?"

"I'll tell you that on the way too. Come along… Hang on now grab the bangle first! That's what you came for."


	18. Chapter 18

"So tell me then, Dante, just how much you ever knew about Eva." Abati said as they made their way back down the road, bangle in hand.

"My mother? I mean… I knew what she told me… I mean-"

"What did she tell you then?"

"Just about how she met my father and… If I think about it, I guess I always heard more form her about him than I ever did about her."

"She told you the old stories I take it? The old legends of your father's wars, his loyalty to humanity, the world he helped create."

"Yeah… That sums it up pretty well… I never knew him… My father. I was a toddler when he passed away, all I ever had to know of him was what my mom told me." He paused and lingered on it for a moment before saying, "But you must be right… She never did talk about herself much… Like I said, you never came up. I didn't believe I had any family left, anywhere."

"There is perhaps very good reason why Eva never mentioned me," Abati said, shaking his head a little and looking to the ground, shamefaced. Dante examined him carefully, trying to discern what he was getting at. "Our people were amongst the earliest demon slayers in the world… Blood that flows through your veins dates back to the days when Sparda was among the forces of The Prince of Darkness. We were once called the Gheri."

"Were?" Dante asked.

"Most of us have long died out. The Gheri were a dying people your mother was born, a near-extinct one when I was and frankly I'm not sure if there are any left besides us."

"What exactly were the Gheri then? Besides demon slayers?"

"It was all of note we did for history… And that should be enough. We staved off attacks from the most primordial of demons, we slayed countless who took that same title Mundus did… Two thousand years Mundus has held a title as The Devil King, perhaps you think he's been so forever… But no. He is king because we brought down his kin. He is Hell's emperor because we killed his brothers and sisters and his father before his, and _his _father before _him_. Most of our world only recalls one conflict with the demons, two thousand years ago, but where the demons have been, the Gheri have always given chase."

Dante had to smile to himself. This part of his heritage had never come up before, and it all filled him with a sort of pride. He always knew of his father's works, but it resonated with him that his mother came from such a similarly proud background. "But that still doesn't tell me what ever happened to them. Or why they never came up."

Now Abati was faced away entirely, unable to face his nephew as he continued his summary, "Two-thousand years ago, during the conflict with Mundus, three other devils entered into our contract of promised bloodshed. Three demons attacked our capital city and burned it all to the ground. They shamelessly slaughtered all who were within. Mothers, daughters, sons, everyone and burned the city to the ground." Dante gave him a long look, knowing full and well what was coming next, "One had a hide of blue… He said nothing and thought nothing of his actions, cutting through innocents with a sinister, curved blade… Known as Yamoto."

"The second was deep red in color, and he was loud and raucous. He shouted and taunted the Gheri as he cut through them with his claymore, known as Rebellion."

"And the one who needs no introduction… The Legendary Dark Knight and his mighty sword. Sparda."

Dante knew it was coming, but nothing could have prepared him for it. For all those years his mother had taught he and Vergil their history, about their father, the great demon who turned to justice… He had just allowed himself to forget that to turn to anything, one must first lack it…

"Your family… Didn't take to him, did they?"

"Our mother thought him an incubus," Abati replied. "Thought he horribly and cruelly stole away my sister's mind. There are not good demons to the Gheri. They are all monsters, nothing more and never to be more." He looked down at the ground, as if examining every step he was taking. "Even if Sparda and his companions hadn't killed so many, I am sure they never would have thought him any different… Even Eva didn't give him much chance at first." Dante didn't say anything, only bringing a hand to his head to try and comprehend all the implications. "She did not know until a year after their meeting that he was a demon… She shunned him told him to leave her… Better than any of us. Any other Gheri would try and kill him instantly, no matter how powerful he was. We'd lost enough of our people to him and his cursed worshippers."

"The- The Order of the Sword?" Dante asked, stunned as Abati nodded.

"I told you, the Gheri are few in number. We'd been trying for centuries to slay that Order in Fortuna- I suppose you are familiar with them then? Yes… Yes Fortuna was once our home. The Order forced us away with superior numbers and black magic… I don't know just how they attained their horrible powers… Knowing what I do now, Sparda never gave it to them… Yes, we were overcome and forced from our own homeland by their cursed leader, Benedetto."

They were quiet for a time as they continued to make their way back to the house before Dante resumed with, "She was exiled wasn't she?"

"Our mother cast blessed water upon her and screamed that her impurities leave her body. My sister sobbed and sobbed and pleaded with her that she was not unclean, that your father had done nothing to manipulate her… Then my mother cast her from our home. A grave, grave action you must understand… The Gheri were a matriarchal society. The high priestess of a village was the most powerful of officials in times of old and still were the most powerful amongst us in those days. Birthright belonged to the women of the Gheri, for a mother to cast out her daughter, her _only_ daughter, in this case, meant accepting that the most important one in carrying on her legacy was gone, never to return."

Dante shook a little, trying to take this drastic bit of history in as they closed in on his parent's home. "I would imagine Eva never spoke of us to you… Because we cut her from the cloth of our family." There was a quiet for another moment before Abati asked, "I suppose you hate me, don't you?"

"I'm… Not really sure," Dante replied, "I don't really like to jump to conclusions about people…"

"I suppose that at least explains where I was then, huh?" Abati continued. "Why I wasn't there to pick you up from your funeral… I didn't even know until a year later, when I stopped receiving letters… I never replied… But I always kept them… What did ever happen to you and your brother?"

Dante shrugged, "What happens to most children the world doesn't want anymore? We went between a few orphanages for a few years. They weren't… Horrible, I suppose, but they could never hope to contain us… Particularly since the demons made their appearance one of those times and killed about everybody. We were on the road for a few months before we showed ended up in Venna."

"Venna? Good God, how did you end up in Venna? I mean… That's how far away?"

"Don't question it too much," Dante said. "I mean after… I guess I delivered some pizzas in high school before my brother and I had to split up… He went his way… I went mine."

They were just before the gate back into the mansion before Dante decided to ask the next question, "Was my mother… Good?"

"She was one of the best," Abati said. "One of the finest warriors the Gheri had seen in centuries. The angles smiled upon her."

"Angels huh?" Dante said, pushing the gates open.

"Do you find that a strange thought?" Abati asked.

"I'm not really sure if I believe in angels," Dante replied, holding the gate open so his elderly uncle could walk through.

"After the circumstances of your life, I'm not sure I blame you," Abati said.

"I used to see demons about every day. Every few years someone was trying to pry open the gates of hell and Mundus and my father had worshipers who were given great and terrible power… But in that time I've never seen an angel, never had to fight of a maniac clawing his way into heaven or had a reason to believe any old man is looking out for me."

"What about an old woman?" Abati asked with a little smile, "I told you, the Gheri were matriarchs."

"The only old woman I've ever felt was looking out for me was my old woman," Dante said. "I think the only thing outside of earth and hell I might believe is real is my mother."

"Did she teach you about angels? About God?"

"She did," Dante said, going forward and opening the front door. "And about demons and hell… And when I'd never seen any of them, I believed in all of them. But I've fought off demons for decades now and never seen a single of their counterparts. I've met one white winged beauty, but rest assured, she wasn't an angel. Not like you're talking about."

"Have you ever tried to ward off demons with holy water?"

"I have, and I know it works. I can't explain everything, I'm just going off of what I have seen and experienced."

Abati nodded as they proceeded into the house, the old man then taking a long look at his nephew. "You're not going to do this dressed like that."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Dante asked, instantly annoyed.

"These are important matters. They call for a bit more respect than your father's old leisure ware."

"And what exactly did you have in mind?" Dante asked, rolling his eyes.

"Eva sent me several photographs of you as an little boy… You aspired to be like her. Why don't you try that?"

"And you said I'm not dressed properly now," Dante remarked, unable to believe he was having the exchange he was.

"Cooperate with me, this is important, however trivial it seems.

"Look Abati… I don't really know what's going on here, but there could be some very, _very_ serious matters pressing outside this house! I don't know if I'm right about what's going on, but if memory serves-"

"The Plutuson," Abati said, cutting him off.

"Damn it! Do you… Do you know everything?!" Dante demanded.

"The name was included in my instruction, should you ever return to this hamlet."

"And just who gave you those orders?" Dante asked.

"All will be clear soon, I assure you," Abati said. "But first things first. Go change."

"Even… Even knowing all of earth may well headed for armageddon?"

"Then you should waste no more time. Go."

Dante wanted to keep bickering with the old man, fight the strange request, but figured the man had been waiting so long for him, there must be a reason. I went back into his parents' bedroom.

He emerged a few minutes later, adjusting the sleeves on an open red frock. "These were outdated when I was born," Dante muttered, then working at the collar. "Alright, there. I'm in red. What now?"

Abati smiled and told him to lead him to the living room. Dante did so and again faced the portrait on the wall. "Remove it," Abati said. Dante was beyond questioning such things then and took the painting off the wall, revealing a circular carving behind it. "Place the bangle."

As soon as he did so there was a little shake as the piece of the wall the painting covered suddenly gave way and disappeared into the ground, revealing a deep, dark staircase.

"What… Exactly is down there?" Dante asked.

"Your destiny… And quite possibly the destiny of our entire world."

[[Okay, a few author's notes, since I know there may be some questions floating around:  
First up, as follows is my personal timeline. It is, naturally, NOT endorsed by Capcom, but is just my estimate as to times, events and ages, measured by the time of the first game, which as we will recall, is 2000 years after the fall of Mundus. We will mark this AM for After Mundus

Dante and Vergil's birth- 1968 AM. Receiving the amulet- 1976 AM. The death of Eva- 1980 AM. Devil May Cry 3- 1989 AM. Devil May Cry- 2000 AM. Devil May Cry the Animated Series- 2001 AM. Devil May Cry 4- 2003 AM. First fight with The Plutuson- 2005 AM. Devil May Cry 2- 2008 AM. Devil May Cry Revelations: 2015 AM, making Dante 47 at the time of this fic. He _does_ age slower than pureblood humans, but the wear and tear is still showing. The Plutuson in turn was born in 1985 AM. Abati is currently 71 years old and Eva was three years his senior, meaning she had Dante and Vergil when she was 27.

I'd like to remark that I am not going to push for any contrived religious messages in here, I just wanted to ask some of the questions in universe that I have when I played the games myself. You can make a case that God does or does not exist in the DMC games and my thoughts on the matter will arise (I mean let's face it, it's a fic that takes basis from the biblical book of Revelations and the poet who claimed to travel through heaven and hell, it'll come up) but I am not here to preach to anyone. Though I am a Roman Catholic it is my belief faith, or lack thereof, is a very personal decision no one should ever make for you and you shouldn't get any crap for viewing things one way or another… Besides, we've never been shown any real sign the Abrahamic religions exist in the DMC universe and I'm not pigeonholing them into canon to make a bogus preach fic. Go read Harry Potter Turns to The Lord for that junk.

And lastly, here is just a bunch of references I threw out that you may or may not have caught:

-Abati is the maiden name of Dante Alighieri's mother. -Eva's middle name, Isabelle, is in reference to Dante Alighieri's mother, Bella "Gheri" is obviously derived from _Alighieri_, obviously the historic Dante's surname. -"Benedetto" was the birth name of Pope Boniface VIII, who exiled Dante Alighieri from Florence. -The name Venna, Dante's city of operation (and city DMC3 took place in, is named after Ravenna, where historic Dante's tomb is.

Dante's hometown, Entia, is based on the Latin name of the city of Florence, _Florentia_, Florence being the hometown of… Oh come on, you've already figured it out =P]]


	19. Chapter 19

In the center of the deep, dark basement was a single small room. Nothing could really be noted about it, no furniture, no paintings… Or so Dante thought. As he examined the walls around him multiple times he eventually came to a slit in the wall opposite the staircase. He ran his hands along it for a moment before deciding he only had one guess to what it could be meant for, and slipped Rebellion into it.

The staircase behind him was instantly sealed off. He turned his head to get a look but was now surrounded on all sides by darkness. A barely audable hiss could be heard coming from the walls, Dante noting some horrible, burning smell and searching all around for an exit. But he didn't get much of a chance, the gas, whatever it was, pulling him into unconsciousness within moments of hitting him. Soon, the room was darker than black.

"I had hoped this day would never come… Prayed and pled that you never find me here… But I can be nothing but glad I took these precautions, now that I know you finally need them."

Dante slowly got to his feet, his head spinning, pain throbbing through his temple. The first breaths were labored and he had to squint to adjust to the light that was then washing over him. Wherever he was was bright, blowing, there was no sign of sunlight or lightbulbs, just where the light was coming from confused him.

It was then he opened his eyes just enough to finally lay them on the one who had beckoned him. He wore black dress shoes leading up into royal purple slacks. Following his figure upward he was garbed in a laced red shirt and white ascot, mostly covered by a purple trench coat that matched his pants, which he adjusted with his white gloved hands. His silvery hair was slicked back and tidy over his red eyes and he cast a great, demonic shadow upon the seemingly invisible ground they stood on, as if the two were walking in the clouds.

"You're… You're him," Dante said quietly, his eyes still adjusting. "The one from the painting… You're-"

"Sparda," the man confirmed.

Dante could only stand and stare for well over a minute, trying to comprehend his situation before he quietly asked, "In the flesh?"

"I'm afraid not," the figure replied. "I am an entity existent only in your dreams, and only within my own chambers."

"So then… Are you or are you not my father?" Dante asked carefully.

"For simplicity's sake, I am," the purple demon confirmed. "For while you stand within my chamber, I am your father."

In the trips to hell and back, the countless demons Dante had slain, all that he had forced himself through, this may amongst the only things he'd ever seen that he found unbelievable.

"I… What do you want from me?" He asked.

Sparda took a few steps forward. As he came in closer, Dante noted the two were almost exactly the same height. "Why don't we start?" Sparda suggested, smiling a little and putting his hand out, "With a more proper greeting?"

After a moment of hesitation, more regarding the surreality of the situation than anything else, Dante accepted his father's hand for a moment before he was pulled in closer and Sparda wrapped his arms tight around him. He didn't know how to respond, but he didn't fight it.

"I didn't get to see you grow up…" Sparda said in a whisper. "Seeing you now… I can't believe it."

Sparda sighed and took his arms back. "I'm sorry for that," he said. "I haven't seen you since you were an infant… I hope death is a suitable alibi for all that I have missed." Dante said still said nothing as his father adjusted himself. "There is much I want to say… Much I want to ask… If only we had the time…"

"How… How are you doing this?" Dante asked.

Sparda stood up straighter then, his look long and solemn, "I am not so sure that is what you should be lingering on. With all due respect, my son, I think we both know what brought you here." Dante took a long look at the air they stood upon. "I know you did battle with The Plutuson… I know he managed to defeat you."

"So what does that mean?" Dante asked. "You know… What are you going to do? How would you even know that?"

"I knew because I understand my kind's nature," Sparda said. "I knew a day would come when Mundus would find a way to slip between the cracks of the two worlds and return to the Human World… And his goal would then be to produce and heir, that when the day came that he reclaimed the Human World, he'd have a lineage to pass it on to. And one more terrifying even then himself." Sparda paused a moment as Dante remained stoic. "There is a reason it was two-thousand years before I had you and your brother. Each generation of demons born, without exception, has the potential to become far more powerful than the generation that came before them. I knew, if I were to continue protecting the Human World, my child must be raised correctly, and he must have a mother that can show him the light, teach him humility… Teach him to be a man who wielded extraordinary powers, not a demon who was held back by mortal blood."

"Mom did the best she could," Dante muttered. "What happened to Vergil wasn't because of her."

"What happened to Vergil? What do you mean?" Sparda asked, Dante sighing.

"I'm sure there is a lot you need to tell me, but I have a lot I need to tell you too…"

Lucia and Kyrie were both thrown against the walls of the buildings of Fortuna as the citizens ran screaming, a violent lightning storm overtaking the skies.

Trying to distract themselves from the wait for Dante (and stave the temptation to pull out the sword and pursue him), the two women had returned to Fortuna, quietly passing a day, neither talking to one another much, both still suspicious of just where the other's motives lay.

Until the earth again began to shake and the townspeople of Fortuna were running and shrieking for help. A great hellgate had opened in the center of the town, the ground red as blood as he stepped forth.

The demon appeared to lack physical integrity, shaking as if he was made from gelatin with each movement. But this strange condition did little to distract from his vile figure. He was tall and bore many horns upon his head, several necklaces of teeth around his neck and a massive war axe in his hand. His figure was covered in a kind of great stone armor, appearing almost samurai in origin. Within his transparent, jelly-like skin he showed nothing but red, as if he were some horrible balloon full of human blood, and he rode atop a great stallion, matching his color entirely.

"You call yourselves huntresses? You call this the city of Sparda's aspirers? Pathetic! You were not prepared… Not ready for War!"


	20. Chapter 20

"W… War," Kyrie managed to mutter. "Oh God… It's worse than I thought." She clung tight to her right shoulder as she raised her old, engraved revolver. Etchings of flowers decorated the handgun, long, thorny stems leading to a bright azure in the center: The Blue Rose. She took several shots at the horseman, puncturing his skin and bringing the blood to ooze with ease, but seemingly causing him now pain. He turned to her and snarled in his twisted, disturbed voice.

"And you call that a weapon? It sure takes skill to _aim_ doesn't it? That's just pathetic!" He delivered a firm kick to the side of his horse who then rushed towards her, the demon raising his battle axe high and taking a swing, only missing thanks to a sudden adrenal burst that allowed Kyrie to dodge out of the way. Lucia, with her superior speed, made her way over by her side, questioning the injuries.

"I'm fine," Kyrie muttered through gritted teeth. "Well… Except I just realized what that thing is."

"What do you mean?" Asked Lucia. "What is it?"

"Worse than I thought… You heard him. 'You weren't prepared for War'." Lucia starred at her confused as the horseman led his steed to turn.

"What… What is that supposed to mean? It just means we weren't ready to fight him-"

"No," Kyrie insisted. "He didn't mean 'this is war', he meant, 'I am War.'". Lucia still gave her a look of confusion. "War! It's his name! He meant that his name is War!"

With another cackle the horseman came rushing at them and again raised his axe. But this time he did not bother striking, as an eruption of fire blasted forth from his place on the horse, again forcing both of the hunters backwards and apart, singeing the tails of Kyrie's coat.

"I read about these things in the notes of The Order's old leaders… That four horsemen would come at the return of the Plutuson… That their actions would bring about his return."

"What? Four… Four horsemen?" Lucia asked. "Was one a great, fat beast called Conquest?"

Kyrie had to double take. "I mean… There were no pictures or descriptions… But that was one of the names, yes! Conquest, War, Famine and-"

She was interrupted as the demon again charged at them and again set the ground alight. "This is what I took up slaying for," Kyrie said coldly as she drew her crimson, custom made broadsword: The Red Queen. "I can't stand down now…"

As War again turned his horse Kyrie did not dodge to the side. The demon cackled with sinister glee as he whipped at his horse to rush, faster and faster. "That's right! Just stand there! We'll stomp you out in an instant! Faster! Faster! _Faster!_"

From where Kyrie stood it seemed as if War was galloping towards her at an inch an hour. There would be only one correct moment to strike, and it was torturous to wait for it. She did her best to maintain even breathing, any mistake in her actions opening the possibility of deathly consequence.

"Faster! _Faster!_"

With only a few feet separating the two, Lucia screamed at Kyrie to get out of the way, but she did no such thing. Close range would be the only weapon effective against a foe seemingly immune to gunfire and constantly moving so quickly.

As he closed the distance, Kyrie made a great jump. Her last decade had been spent training herself, improving her flexibility, pushing her once dainty, frail body to its limits and testing those limits on any of Hell's forces that dared cross her path. And her sense of timing and strategy for a swift kill had become seemingly unparalleled. This was the moment it would be proven.

Her jump was high, high enough that her boots were well over the head of the demonic horse. As gravity began to pull her back down, she took a mighty swing that, with her own strength combined with the Red Queen's mystical properties, could well have broken through steel, and cleaved through the demon's armor and his fragile skin.

As she hit the ground War was in two, the large, diagonal slice cutting through the right half of his body, which hit the ground a moment later in a spray of blood.

She wiped some of the splatter off of her cheek and looked on, satisfied until the blood that covered the ground took a more solid form and the jelly-like skin wrapped itself around the pool, the demon reforming with ease.

"Tsk, did you think it would be that easy human?" The demon mocked. "I overheard you, you know what I am. We're practically playing on my master's home turf! You could never hope to bring me down!"

The horse let out a battle cry of its own and rushed to rejoin its master, but Lucia cut it off, flashing into her bird-like demon form to slash at it with enough force to force the red stallion off its course. She faded out from it a moment later, trying to conserve the impressive power, briefly catching War's attention.

"Ah, yes… This one is a demon too… She feels not unlike that disgusting abomination Argosax…" He turned, seemingly sneering, back to Kyrie. "I shall enjoy matching against the offspring of such a creature… After I'm finished with you-"

He was cut off by several revolved blasts right to his mouth as Kyrie ran at him with seemingly renewed vigor. He raised his battleaxe over his head with a roar, but, as she was slowly learning from his biology, Kyrie reached in just the right way, taking a slash with her sword into one of the demon's arms, naturally cutting right through it and leaving it limp. With the unexpected loss of half of his axe's support, War's other arm gave way and fell to his side, unable to slash. Kyrie smiled to herself as the adrenaline seemed to take over with every hack and slash. Since taking up the practice, there was always a euphoria to knowing she once felt like a helpless captive to the will of hellish designs. Now she opposed it, directly, channeling the will of those she had long since lost to similar struggles.

In minutes the demon was reduced to a pool of red and the last of the transparent flesh scattered all about the spot of their battle, the axe lying in the center. She turned to Lucia, who had overcome the stallion who now laid defeated, though she was unsure if it was living or dead.

"Is… Is it over?" Lucia asked, with some struggle for breath. Kyrie nodded without saying a word and took a few steps towards the stallion to get a better look at it before Lucia screamed, "Behind you!"

The scream and the movements that invited it were quick, but Kyrie was quicker. She threw her hand to her coat and retrieved what could have been a simple handle that had been broken off of nearly anything from the back of her belt, which had been obscured by the garment. As she held up the handle it shifted shape and expanded until it formed a great purple shield, seemingly shaped from angel's wings.

No matter how much force may have been exerted unto the axe, neither Kyrie nor the shield wavered as the partially reformed War was forced back.

"Damn it! Where does a little bitch like you get something like that?!" He demanded, now genuinely shocked.

"A gift," Kyrie said, taking a new stance to accommodate her sword and shield, "From my brother."

The two stood and maintained glares for a few moments, each with their share of snarls towards one another before War took the next step and ran, Kyrie rushing to meet him halfway.

Sparda's hands were to his face with frustration as his son continued to bring him up to date.

"Vergil… To think you'd fall so far… It all really makes me wonder Dante… Just how much good I managed to do in my last days… I have to wonder… If it was all my doing."

"What do you mean?" His son asked.

"I wanted your mother to teach you how to prevent these things… _If_ they ever came. I had sincerely hoped they wouldn't… I wanted to believe I had sealed away the forces of Hell, that it would not come back to burden me… Let alone that I would lose one of my sons to it." Sparda looked down and muttered to himself, "Just like Maro…"

"Who?" Dante asked.

"The first wielder of Yamoto… He was a friend of mine, long ago…"

"I've actually heard a little about that," Dante said.

"Have you?" Sparda asked.

"I didn't know the whole story… Only that Yamoto and Rebellion had previous owners… Acquaintances of yours during the war with the humans."

"Yes, yes they did… Maro who kept Yamoto, and Elisei who wielded Rebellion… I could say much about the two of them… But I think it would suffice to say that you and your brother have emulated them more than enough."

"Just what do you mean by that?"

"Your sword was not called Rebellion without reason Dante. Elisei gave the blade that name the day he decided to adapt it as a philosophy… The day he awoke to justice." Beads of sweat dripped down Dante's forehead. "Your mother and all history may credit me for being the one who single handedly slaughtered betrayed and slaughtered the forces of Mundus… But it was by observing Elisei that I learned compassion for humanity."

"You mean he- What changed him? From what I heard he reveled in destruction."

"Even now I am not sure. But the day came he did not want to destroy any more. He tried to reason before Mundus that perhaps we should stop warring with the mortals… He was branded a traitor and Maro was dispatched to execute him." Dante's mouth was now dry at the thoughts. "It was the first time I ever saw tears in a demon's eye… In spite of their differences, Maro and Elisei were friends. They battled for a great, long time before the traitor was defeated…"

"It was in that moment, seeing that the emperor I had served for so long would pit friend against friend, demon against demon and that he simply could only ever care for us as tools for his war that I decided rebellion was the only means of rightness in the world… I pleaded that Maro join me, but all of his will was lost when he was made to bloody himself with his own friend… He knew he could never return to Mundus, but had not the strength to help stage a rebellion… I gave him the only grace I could, and only after he had insisted and pleaded for it… With those two deaths… I knew the emperor must be made to pay."


	21. Chapter 21

With his steed incapacitated, War was made to fight on his own. In spite of some suggestions she could assist, Kyrie was adamant that she could defeat the horseman herself. She would have it no other way.

"Very bold," the demon goaded. "For mortal scum… You're proud of your thoughts, aren't you? That you could draw sword against me? What do you aspire to girl? My master? Rest assured, you won't even defeat me. The Plutuson would have no time to waste on you."

"Enough!" Kyrie yelled, returning to the offensive, angelic shield raised as War took several more swipes. The battleaxe made great clangs but did not penetrate the shield. When he appeared off balance, Kyrie opened herself up to try and stab at him, but her speed was slowed thanks to the inability to keep both hands grasped on the sword and War parried her with ease, managing to take another swipe and slash across her sword arm, cutting into coat and skin and leaving the hunter wincing in pain as she tried to make some distance.

"You don't even know how to use that thing, do you?" War taunted, taking a few more axe swings as she continued backing up, the shield taking the damage. "A gift from your brother? Ha! Does he know you are using it so poorly?"

"Shut up!" Kyrie commanded, sheathing the Red Queen and drawing the Blue Rose to try and blow apart the thin skin again. She managed several shots, even penetrating the gel again but War did not slow, continuing to swing at the shield again and again.

"Pathetic! To think your _ever_ overcame mine with those pathetic machines!" With this he took a great horizontal slash, knocking the shield out of Kyrie's hands and costing her her balance, putting her on the ground.

Lucia cried out and ran to help, but a fresh legion of skull-faced demons appeared before her, snarling and swinging.

War gave Kyrie a smile as he looked at her on the ground. Desperate to retaliate, she fired bullet after bullet at the demon. He did not resist, in fact his arms were out as if he was inviting it. Under normal circumstances Kyrie would have noticed the oddity and stopped, figured out what was going on. But she wasn't thinking clearly, and only continued to fire until the Blue Rose refused to fire any more. By that point there could well have not been a demon there. He'd again been reduced to a pool of blood, but before Kyrie even got back to her feet he completely reformed, one hand holding and leaning on the axe.

"My turn." There was a strangle metallic rattling. Kyrie's breath grew faster and faster as she saw the bullets were within the blood that composed the creature's insides, and they were all flowing upwards, into its free hand.

With power greater than any mortal gun War returned fire, blasting the hunter over and over again. She screamed and cried out in pain with each blast. Her blood was everywhere by the time the attack was finished, bullet wounds littering her frame below the neck. She shook in terror as War reached down and grabbed her by the throat, pulling her upwards to where his eyes should have been.

"I kept away from anywhere that would kill you instantly… I have my own methods. I just wanted to commend you girl. No other mortal would dare stand to me the way you had…" With that War threw her to the ground, stepping on her head with one of his feet and raising his axe above his head, intent on a decapitation, "Let me remind you why!"

There was a roar. There was a scream. There was cheering. There was lamenting.

But most importantly, there was a little splash.

Kyrie had retrieved a tiny vial of holy water from one of the pockets of her coat and made threw splatter at the demon's knee. The roar that followed was one of pain as the demon's knee dissolved and he fell off balance, freeing Kyrie as she made a dash for her brother's shield, lingering over it for a moment before giving herself a little nod as War struggled to his knees.

"I'll give you this much… You were right. I wasn't using this thing properly," she said, pouring the remainder of the water on the shield as War got to his feet, still writhing in pain. "Forged with Sparda's powers… It's wholly good. Made to be a weapon against demons like you. My mistake," she took a strange stance, as if preparing to play with a discuss, "Was using it for defense!"

And with that she threw the shield. With deadly accuracy it flew like a chakram and severed War's head. There was a last cry of pain as the gel body seemed to fade away and the blood hit the ground in a final splash, the water and hemoglobin separating. Lucia finished the last of the demons surrounding her and stood at Kyrie's side.

"Is… Was that it?" She asked.

Kyrie said nothing as she collected her shield, only smiling a little and nodding.

"They- They _what?!_" Sparda demanded.

"They used collections of your blood and injected it into him… After they recovered what was left of Vergil, they used that too."

"The… The imbeciles! The damned fools! The… Did… Do you think they knew what he was?"

"I don't think so," Dante said. "I think they just knew he had some demon in him… That he might be a good place to try some new experiments."

"The God damn- That's completely idiotic!" Sparda shouted. "A demon's blood houses his instincts! His understanding! That would be… I mean… That child would have conflicting instincts! He'd be like a cross bred animal! He would not, _would not_ be capable of understanding the world around him! Particularly between myself and Mundus, two entirely different understandings!"

"He certainly seemed confused," Dante confirmed. "He had a disdain for you and the Order… But at the same time would have died for them… At least until he came to understand what they were doing."

"I… I almost pity this child," Sparda said. "A son of Mundus would be bad enough… But this boy- man- whatever he is… There must be a war going on inside his mind…"

"What… What are you getting at?" Dante asked.

"That this 'Plutuson' of ours-"

"Nero," Dante said. "His name is Nero."

"A synonym of Black… Of course that's his name," Sparda muttered.

"And you're right… He is conflicted," Dante said, looking down. "I met him while he was within The Order… He was misguided and had a mouth on im'… But I don't know just how much different we really were… He didn't get his father's third eye until later… And his hair was that same snowy white…" Dante fell silent for a moment as his father stepped closer, putting a hand on his shoulder as he seemed to fight tears. "I thought… I wanted… Maybe… To know I wasn't alone… To believe after you… After Vergil… After Mom… Maybe I wasn't alone."

Sparda's hands were gentle on his son's chin as he pulled it up to face him, softly saying, "Never fear weeping when the time comes… Never forget that it is what makes you different from them."

"What about you?" Dante asked. "Does it make me different from you?"

"No," Sparda said. "I didn't know until the end… Had never felt them at my eyes before. But when I knew my time was up, knew I'd never spend another moment with Eva… Knew I'd never get to see you and your brother grow up… That was when I knew what this is." They stood quietly until Dante managed to regain some of his composure, Sparda patting him on the shoulder again.

"If all you say is true… We must act, my son… You've taken the first step just now."

"What do you mean?" Dante asked.

"If you ever hope to end the hopes of Mundus and slay this Nero, you must reclaim what is rightfully yours… Even with both of our bloods running through his veins, you have something even better. You have your mother in you." Dante said nothing as Sparda crossed the space and looked long and hard at him. "I will help you pave the way my son. I can see it in your eyes… The fire you need to slay the demonic prince. It just needs more tending."

With that Sparda put out a hand and, in a whirl of red energy, an old, worn out claymore ordained with skulls appeared in his hand, Force Edge.

With that and a brilliant flash of demonic energy, the well groomed gentleman disappeared. In his place was a great, scaly brown demon with clawed hands and ram horns, his back made up of two great batlike wings above four seemingly insectoid ones. The sword changed into what could have well been pieces of his own body, the exact great sword that held the seal over The Plutuson.

"Just what do you think this will accomplish?" Dante asked, genuinely curious as he took his stance against his father.

"Just fight me like you would any of the rest," he said, his gentle voice now a reverberating, distorted snarl, though it was clearly unintentional. "Show me your power… Show me your mother's fire!"


	22. Chapter 22

The old hunter was still hesitant, his pause wholly justified. He had wielded his father's sword before, taken his shape before, he knew full and well how mighty that kind of power was.

And then there were his mother's stories which, after wielding that power, he dared not believe she exaggerated… Dante had slain hundreds, perhaps thousands of demons in his career… But his father? He surely must have killed that many in a single campaign! His father's tales of his history practically confirmed it, he was a single warrior who toppled forces Dante wasn't sure he could even imagine. He had needed help defeating a long wounded Mundus and only barely pushed him back into the void. It was his father who had crippled him, it was this demon who the legends spoke of.

"Come!" His father commanded. On a seemingly unwilling instinct, Dante drew Rebellion and made a rush at him.

The father and son clashed immediately and the entire subspace seemed to shake with their incredible power. Red lightning discharged from their bodies and their blades as they held their sword lock.

Dante knew his father would not kill him… He wasn't even sure he _could_ die in wherever he was. But that thought would not be reflected in his swordsmanship. Even if he wasn't sure why, he would push himself like he never had before.

The two split from their lock and began their swings and slashes. Neither managed a good hit, both parrying one another over and over again, Sparda's eyes studying every moment carefully. As the Dark Knight went for an overhead swing they were again locked in place as a result of Dante's parry.

"Your technique is superb," Sparda said, still not surrendering the lock. "Elisei's precision… Maro's power… It's very good."

Dante said nothing as he broke the lock and jumped backwards, drawing Ivory and Ebony from their holsters. "You said fight you like I would the rest!" He called and fired bullets wrapped in lightning.

Sparda's reaction was quick, throwing out his fists, what appeared to be burning kanji hitting the bullets and burning them up, though dissipating just after that. Dante's guns were still smoking as he slid them back in place and pulled out Rebellion again. Both he and his father took their stances and rushed, each of them delivering a Stinger to the other, their stances leaving their arms half crosses, practically gripping one another.

"Good… Good…" Sparda said through a grit of teeth, Dante doing much the same. "You've learned well my son… Very well."

Again the two separated and resumed their sword dance. Each strike seemed fast as a bolt of lightning and just as powerful. To an untrained eye their battle would be nothing but blurs with the clashes of steel lagging behind each actual strike. Sometimes there was an opening, sometimes one would get a chance to lash at the other. And in spite of what would pass between most any other father and son, nothing seemed held back. Slashes that would sever mortal limbs were exchanged across arms, stabs that would kill any human in a moment were traded and gunshots and fire that no criminal or arsonist however mad would ever inflict on another were given between them, with little but grunts and the gritting of teeth to stand as testament.

And yet, in spite of his constant praise, Dante could tell his father was not satisfied.

The fight raged on like this for several minutes, both of them seemingly evenly matched. Neither would manage a blow against the other without leaving themselves open and accepting a slash or hack in return. Blood was coating the white on which they stood, both warrior's breaths growing heavier as they continued, but neither showing any sign of stopping.

Until Dante made another lunge only for Sparda to raise a clawed hand and command, "Stop!". Dante stumbled a little and froze, giving his father a strange look. "May I make a suggestion?" Dante stared in confusion for a moment. "What?"

"It's… It's jarring," he admitted. "You're so polite and calm even when you look like- No, even when you literally _are_ a bat-outta-hell." Sparda stared at him blankly before Dante muttered, "Sorry… It's an expression. Became one since-"

"Alright alright," Sparda said, cutting him off. "Listen to me Dante. You're holding back, I know you are."

Dante looked at him in confusion. "No I'm not… I mean, I'm not triggering-"

"You're not what?"

"My inner demon. Like when you go from man to devil. I call it Devil Trigger."

"That's… Not a bad name actually," Sparda said, contemplating it, "A good name… Yes…"

"I'm not using it but I'm out of practice with it. Even if I was, I'd be conserving it, rest assured."

"Well it doesn't matter," Sparda said. "That's not what I was getting at. I know you're holding back something else."

Dante just held and shook his head, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I told you. What makes you different from them. What I know is in there. What I can sense is in there." He paused for a moment and took a few steps backwards, "Your technique is masterful. Your swordsmanship is excellent. But I'm not talking about that. Let me try something else."

Sparda closed one of his hands and produced another ball of fire. He looked Dante straight in the eyes and threw it. Dante straightened himself and slashed at it with Rebellion, rebounding it back towards his father.

"Don't be so silent!" Sparda commanded, slashing it back.

"I don't know what you mean!" Dante yelled, deflecting it as it returned to him.

"You've suppressed it!" Sparda shouted, again deflecting the energy. "You need to let it out!"

"Let _what _ out?!" Dante demanded, growing more frustrated as he sent it back again.

"The words! The words sitting on the tip of your tongue!"

"What in the hell would that-"

"Just do it!"

As the orb of fire came hurdling towards Dante again, still confused and frustrated, he decided to just comply.

"This is the worst tennis match I've ever been to!" And slashed the orb back, this time with considerably more force without even realizing it. The orb was returned with such power that Sparda could not react fast enough and was blasted backwards by his own attack. Dante heaved a few breaths and had to double take at just what had happened.

Sparda got to his feet, clutching the smoldering wound on his chest. He looked his son in his eyes again and commanded, "Say it."

"That's… That's fifteen love." Dante said with some hesitation. A smile crept across Sparda's face and he roared with laughter.

"That's it! That's it!"

"What's it?" Dante asked. "What, are you actually suggesting I'm stronger because I'm spewing some stupid one-liners?"

"I don't know," Sparda said, standing up straighter. "Why don't you tell me!"

The two again met in the space's center, taking cuts and slashes at one another, but it seemed different somehow. Dante was now catching more of the strikes, now managing more parries and getting more cuts of his own in. Whereas before their battle seemed completely equal, cut for cut, Dante now seemed to have some upper hand. It was confusing and strange, but it was such a change he couldn't keep a smile from coming across his face.

"Again!" Sparda commanded. "Again!"

"Are you getting slow in your old age?" Dante asked, forcing him off one of their locks and putting a few more cuts into his stomach. "I mean I'm pushing fifty, but I'm keepin' up okay!"

He wasn't quite sure he could stop it anymore. The vaunts came slowly, but were getting faster and faster. When his father attempted another Stinger, he jumped out of the way with a spirited "Woo!" and again started blasting with his pistols. Sparda did indeed seem to slow, but he was laughing along with him as he grew more and more energetic. After dodging out another sword lock and some more gunshots, he went so far as to throw his arms out and ask, "Ya scared?" More out of tradition than context.

"You're doing well. I can see it now. But how well will you keep up?"

With this Sparda made another leap and again started taking slash upon slash at his son. He was faster and stronger than before, with strength enough to stagger his son and again retain the offensive, but even this would not move Dante from his mood.

"Hey come on! What'd I do break a lamp? It was Vergil, I promise!" He said, trying to keep up with the attacks as they came at him. He was taking more hits, drawing more blood, but it didn't pull him from his euphoria as they clashed again. "You know, spanking's kind of a hot topic these days. But I think most parents would agree it's nothing compared to this!" With that he pulled himself from the lock and delivered a mighty boot to Sparda's chest, knocking him backwards and giving Dante the chance to get some more cuts in. Sparda opened his wings and made ajump, maintaining some air above his son, but Dante would have none of it as he brought Rebellion down to his side. "Hey Dad? How about a game of catch?!" And threw the sword.

The Round Trip was executed perfectly. The sword flew with deadly grace right at the legendary demon and impaled him right in his chest. Sparda hovered in the air for a moment, blood now pooling and dripping from his mouth as he let out a roar and fell to the ground.

For a moment the space was silent. And the silence was eerie, seemingly inviting some horrible screech to overtake the both of them, but none did.

And then there was laughter. Slow and quiet at first, but quickly filling the space and echoing off of unseen walls. Sparda reached out and pulled the sword from his chest, tossing it towards Dante, who caught it easily, both of them still just laughing. With another flash of light Sparda and his sword reverted to their more mundane appearances and the blade was dismissed.

"Well you did it," Sparda said, getting to his feet and slicking back his hair, which had become mussied as a result of the fight.

"But I'm still not sure what I did," Dante said.

"You used your two halves as one," Sparda said. "Have you ever noticed that demons always seem to have only one single thing in mind? Even the more intelligent ones like Mundus and myself, we're rather one-note creatures. Even as I learned and became closer to humanity, I could never feel like a human can."

"But it is because demons are ruled by their singular, simple emotions and thoughts. The weaker ones stop being able to so much as speak, their single desire, usually to kill mortals on behalf of their master, is what gives them strength. Our powers are born from our emotions and will, even if we do not possess the strongest control over either."

"But you Dante… You have it in you to feel the way humans feel. Know what they know. And that, combined with your heritage on my side, makes you more powerful than any human or demon could ever hope to be. The demon's power to use emotions as power, and humanity's ability to feel greater than any spawn in Hell. _That_ is what makes you mighty." Dante looked down, trying to put the pieces together, "But you separated yourself from that. Our battle and all you have told me shows me you separated yourself from your emotions. From your joy, from your lust for life… Demons can be stoic or raving mad but they do not choose what they are. They can come close, but can never truly be and feel what you are, Dante."

"What separates me from them… Is my ability to feel?"

"To feel like even I cannot understand," Sparda said. "To see the world as your mother did."

Dante nodded a little before asking, "Mom was this spirited?"

"It was the first thing that struck me about her," Sparda said with a smirk. "Maybe in losing me and raising the two of you my Eva slowed… But I saw her hunt demons. I saw her confront the darkness of Hell with a smile on her face and a wag of her finger." Sparda's speech finally slowed a little as he came closer to his son again. "That is what you lost… And what it seems you have finally found again. Even in times of despair, do all you can… Live as she lived."

"I… I will," Dante said quietly, taking it in. "Yeah…" He found himself punching the palm of his hand without realizing it. "It's a lot… It won't be easy… But I think I can take being a class clown again."

"That's my boy!" Sparda enthused with another pat on the shoulder. "I believe in you… I know you can do it. I know you'll stop him… And God willing, free him. His pain must be so great."

"Let's not sympathize too much here," Dante said with a chuckle. "I still gotta kick his ass. Whatever her's going through right now."

"Yes. Yes you're right," Sparda said. He put a hand out and made a motion, a great black door seeming to appear out from nowhere. "You will awake again in the manor if you go out through that door."

"Where do I go from here?" Dante asked.

"You mentioned the Four Horsemen earlier… They'll be making their way to the four primary Hellgates. Dumary, Fortuna-"

"Venna and Mallet," Dante said under his breath. "Got it."

"There will be something in the manor for you too," Sparda said. "The last gift I can give you… Keep it close. Maybe it won't be much to you, but maybe it will be a reminder… Of the one time we had here. Look inside that bangle you used to get into the basement."

"Alright… Thank you," Dante said. He took a few steps towards the door before he turned and took a last look at his father. "Hey… Can you tell me one other thing? What happens when we… When we go?"

"When we die?" Sparda asked, Dante nodding. "I wish I could say for certain… Unfortunately, I am only an illusion… I told you, for all intents and purposes, I am your father, but I am still just a shadow of him… I have his memories, from life until death, but I do not know what comes after." Dante nodded and made his way closer to the door. "But," Sparda continued, "If your mother taught you right, and I paid my dues… I don't believe this will be out last meeting."

Dante could not stop himself. He turned around and faced his father one last time, putting out his hand and the two shook before each pulled one another in and wrapped their arms around each other.

"Thank you… Thank you… Dad," Dante said.

In return, he heard only a faint echo of, _"__La speranza e l'ultima a morire."_

A moment later he looked and saw he was holding nothing at all. Before he could even know it, his father had vanished. He made his way to the black door, cracked it open and muttered the words one more time.

[Break]

Dante finally awoke in the basement, again a few drops of cool sweat on his forehead. All was as it had been when he fell unconscious, he couldn't even comprehend how long he was out.

He ascended the staircase and found Abati waiting for him. "How long was I down there?"

"An hour, tops," Abati said. "So… You met him then?"

"I did," Dante said. "And… And all I can say is thanks for making me put on this stupid thing," he said, referring to the red frock. "I needed a little more of my mom in me down there."

"So he gave you what you needed huh?" Abati asked with a toothy smile. "Good… So. What are you going to do now?"

Dante went to the bangle and retrieved it from its place on the wall, taking a look within. It took a moment of study, but when he found the oddity, he pulled at it, producing a golden ring with the last words from his father written on the inside.

"It- This must be his wedding ring," Dante said quietly, slipping it into his pocket. "He said he wanted me to have it."

"An interesting gesture… But it doesn't answer my question. What will you do now?"

Dante went over the last bits of conversation to himself before saying, "Venna. I need to get to Venna. It's the closest one to here."

"Closest what-"

"I don't have time to explain. I need to get to Venna, fast as possible!"

"Alright alright," Abati said. "Whatever you say… Thankfully that ring wasn't the only thing your father left you behind…"

Abati motioned to his nephew and the two stepped outside, with Abati pointing at the garage on the opposite end of the garden. He was searching his pockets for the key to the ancient lock, but Dante managed to break the thing easily and threw it open.

"Oh you've gotta be kidding me," Dante said, laughing a little.

Stored in the garage was an old motorcycle. It did not appear old, it had not been touched by mold or rust, but he could tell it had to be over seventy years old. Abati produced a different key and tossed it to him, Dante complying as he put it in and started revving up the engine. It was loud and gaseous, but ran just fine.

"Come find me again after this is all over!" Abati called over the motor.

"I promise. Thank you for everything Uncle!" Dante yelled in reply.

And without another moment wasted, he ran the bike straight off the property.

The road, his road, was finally clear.


	23. Bonus Boss: The Chaults

[[Author's Note: This chapter's a little different from a lot of the other's and may kind of raise some questions. It's probably best taking with a fair bit of MST3K Mantra. This chapter features a crossover with a several characters from an original series I am writing that I will be trying to put through to publishers as it goes along. More on that as it progresses though.

On the off chance anyone sees this story and my original works and are curious: This chapter is canon to this fanfic, but is NOT canon to my original series]]

Dante only stopped to grab a map at the closest gas station, the bike still full. He wasn't entirely sure how he would react if it ran out, given he still wasn't carrying a wallet, but had a feeling it wouldn't be a concern. Nothing in the house had changed since he was last there, a mystic quality had seemed to shield everything. Hopefully the same would keep him on the motorcycle without stopping.

It would be around four and a half hours to Campal, where he could either find a way to get into his miniscule bank account or just stow away on the train to Venna, figuring accounting for stops and the sort it would be faster. He had a now aged, beat up convertible he had received for his work years before that could service him in the city… Though Sparda's motorcycle was more than a tempting step up. He opted to decide on the matter when he was closer.

He buzzed down the highway fast as the bike would take him, easily keeping up with the cars that were headed in the same direction, getting dirty looks from various drivers regarding the noise and speed. No one without his genes could have been driving as recklessly as he was, slipping between spaces amongst the cars, helmetless with his hair blowing in the wind. It could have done a lot of damage to anyone's skin if it wasn't tough enough.

A little less than a mile short of a rest stop, Dante had to double take. There was a coldness that seemed to take him, if only for a moment. He sensed something… A portal had been opened. There was a demon ahead. Did The Plutuson know he was still alive? Had he sent something to intercept him? He had to know. Especially since whatever it was, it could be threatening the rest of the drivers on the road. He made his signal and turned off to the place. Sure enough, something was waiting for him.

It was tall, whatever it was, easily two heads taller than he. All the ground around it was a deep, scorched black. There were screams from people running to their cars and bolting as fast as possible. No part of it was visible, its body covered in a great, hooded cloak.

"And who the hell are you supposed to be?" Dante asked, kicking the bike's stand to keep it in place. The figure turned towards him, snarling.

"I could ask you the same question." Dante had to double take and bring a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing. The great figure's words were pompous and nasally, extremely inappropriate for its body type, perhaps even more jarring than his father's kind words being so distorted. "We have no business here… We're seeking Lewis Stuart Chault."

"Is he also French?" Dante asked mockingly.

"Impudent worm! We are Zauch!"

"Gesundheit," Dante chuckled. "Can't say I know who that is or what _that_ is. But I felt you open your way out from Hell. Pardon me if I don't consider that good news. Did that rat Nero send you?"

"Nero? What?" The demon asked.

"The Plustson? Mundus's kid?"

"Gesundheit yourself!" It asserted. "The one who grants us orders is Mammon!"

"Mammon? What in the… Look, are you or are you not from Hell?" Dante asked.

"Get on with it already!" Came a similarly accented female voice, Dante having to jump a little when he heard it. It didn't come from the demon's face, that much he was sure.

"Look pal, I'm just trying to wrap my head around this… Where are you from, Zaur you said? Is that somewhere in France?"

"It is to the northwest of Lanera and the east of Coy! How much simpler do you need this!?"

"I… Don't think you're from _my_ earth. And I don't think you're from _my_ hell either."

"Son of a-" Another female voice screamed. "All this and we ended up in… In what, another world?!"

"You're going to get us back!" The male voice asserted, pointing at Dante.

"I'd love to help you out, but I'm in a rush," Dante said. "And given you have such a fierce temper, I don't think I can just let you hang around here either. _Particularly_ if you're looking for someone in particular."

"I've had enough of his mouth!" One of the females screamed. "He needs to be punished for this disrespect us!"

"Was that plural-"

The demon tossed off its cloak and Dante had to grimace in disgust. It was wearing what appeared to be an ancient, long rotting military jacket and pants, but that was the least of the matter. It stood on three legs, two that appeared bulky and muscled, the third more feminine and dainty. Its arms, all four of them, followed a different pattern, with three more womanly plain ones and a single more prominent muscular one, the extras sticking out from the front of its chest, the left half of which appeared to (and Dante could not believe he was noting this) have a breast. Its face may well have been the most disturbing of all however. To the left it appeared to be a woman with long, straight platinum blonde hair. To the right, the hair was a deeper blonder and more wavy, both eyes smudged with makeup. But the middle of the figure's head was had short hair between the two colors, leading down to a nose with a few moustache hairs and a distinctly square mouth and jaw. Many parts of the creature's body that was visible was run through with stitching and knots. Dante swallowed with disgust: This was at least three people sewn together into a single maligned monster.

"Okay… Okay I'll admit I don't know how long I was out… But how is it in the last twenty-four hours I can remember, I've met my dead father for the first time, learned I had a whole lineage I've never heard a damn thing about, _died_, let me stress that one, _died!_ And fought the crown prince of Hell… And yet _this _is the weird part?"

"You will dare say no more to insult the-"

"I'm not interested," Dante cut off curtly. "I don't know, or frankly care anymore, what you are. If we're gonna fight let's get it done, I got an apocalypse to avert."

The demon would take no more of their constant gab and put out its hands. Two swords and a lance appeared between the more feminine hands while the male one obtained a hammer, too big and for any mortal to wield one handed.

Dante managed to parry the first strike from the dual swords, but the demon's extra arms put it at an advantage as it stepped in and gave him a thrust with its lance. The wound was nothing too impressive but it served to quickly remind Dante of the versatility of his opponent. The demon reared backwards and went for a strike with the hammer. Dante, knowing even he would have a rough time blocking it, dodged to the left and started taking hacks at the demon's side, quickly finding its skin too tough to stab through. As he slashed through the clothing however he was able to quickly note further areas of stitching. He slashed instead at those, cutting the threads free and bringing blood to ooze out.

"To the right you idiots!" One of the female voices shrieked, Dante having to grimace as he saw where it had come from. It had a puffy lipped mouth of the side of its neck, screeching at the rest of it. Out of instinct Dante attempted to stab at the mouth, but was parried too quickly and forced himself to back up.

"Just how much freakier do you get?" Dante asked. "I've met extra-universal demons before, but were just flaming skulls in weird black costumes and crap like that… This is worse. A lot worse."

The seemingly three-in-one demon didn't give him a response that time. It just continued trying to hack him down, his swordsmanship clearly getting the better of it and the creature seemingly to totally lack coordination. Easy to make sense of, Dante figured, given the thing couldn't keep from arguing with itself.

As he danced and dodged around the demon's strikes he got a better look at its heinous figure. Threads joined all four of the arms to its body and even more seemed to run through towards its stomach. This thing was a living patchwork doll, no way around it, and the job wasn't done very well. But as stupefying as it was that the creature was seemingly so many pieces sewn together, it meant it would surely be easy to take apart.

He dodged another of the demon's strikes and whipped out his pistols, taking several lightning induced shots at the demon who roared with pain.

"What the hell is that?!" The mouths cried in various time. "What… What kind of weapons are those supposed to be?!"

"Way of the future," Dante mused. As the demon struggled with the pain and fortitude of the lightning, Dante made a rush at it and kept his slashes close to its inner limbs.

In four quick strikes all of its arms were on the ground. Each of the demon's mouths let out deep cries of anguish as it was left defenseless, Dante promptly running it through with Rebellion.

"Shoulda gone with super glue," he chuckled. "Or duct tape. Or hell, anything else."

He stood in place for a moment, confident he had a kill as the three groaned and snarled in pain before he suddenly double took and wheezed in pain. He looked down at his stomach to see two more arms had sprouted from his opponent, both of which were now running him through with a pair of hidden daggers. A few drops of blood welled up in his mouth as he looked up at the demon.

"Credit where credit's due. If I was any normal guy, that's probably do the trick." He reached behind his back and grabbed his pistols again, holding both to the face of the now increasingly frightened demon. "Unfortunately though… I eat trash like you for breakfast."

He pulled both triggers, the guns still pulsating in demonic energy and blasted the demon off its feet. Blood splashed all over the ground as it fell back but somehow the creature itself never hit the earth. When it came to the ground it seemed to just fade into it, gone in a moment. Dante turned and looked at the arms he had cut off to see they had disappeared too. He spent only a moment pondering it before he got back on the bike, muttering to himself, "What was that all about?"


	24. Chapter 23

Dante managed to shake off the bizarre experience with the demon as the hours finally came to an end and he pulled into the train station in Campal. The bike had lasted longer than he knew it should have, but the gas was finally dwindling. He only knew the way because he knew he had made the same journey decades before. This was where he and his brother had retreated. Running farther and farther from home and the orphanages, the demons that constantly perused them in the darkness. All those years ago, no way to pay for tickets, no way to tell anyone about what had happened to them, seemingly no escape. But Vergil was confident. Sure they could eventually get away.

With the same agility and timing, Dante forced his way past the few people standing about in the train station. There was some sense of shame that wasn't there the first time, but he couldn't linger on it. A police officer or two were shouting at him as he jumped over the ticket railings towards the train departing for Venna. It was already headed down the tracks, moving too quickly for any mortal to catch, but Dante was no mortal. He made a lunge and landed on the back of the caboose, fingers wrapped the bars to keep balance as it picked up speed. He was sure it wasn't the same train, but it may as well have been. The only difference, besides his age, was the lack of traveling companion.

By nightfall he was rushing through the train station in Venna, pushing past as many people as stood in his way. He was only a few short blocks from his apartment, and so long as demons weren't filling up the streets yet, that was where he needed to be.

His broken down sign greeted him with the last of its flickers as he ran for the door, his rhythm interrupted when he pulled and found it locked. He frowned to himself and jiggled the knob a little to be sure nothing was just stuck… No, the door was locked. No doubt.

He felt around his pockets for a key, only finding the one to the motorcycle, knowing full and well his key had been in his pants pockets when he fell into the inferno.

Dante rolled his eyes a little, unable to entirely accept a fate so contrived as to force him to go through this _again_, but he knew he had no choice.

He only remembered he kept a spare key under his welcome mat after he raised a foot and booted his door in. The situation pushed himself to laugh a little as he stepped inside and flicked on the lights, the dusty old shop untouched from his departure to Dumary. He quickly made his way to his desk and opened up the second drawer on the left, producing a short list of phone numbers in faded pencil he could still just make out. Even when he'd stopped answering his phone, he'd never stopped paying the phone bill. He put in one of the last numbers on his list and waited… One ring… Two rings… Three…

"Hello?"

"Kyrie, good, thanks for picking up."

"Dante? Is that you? H- Hang on…" She turned away from the phone and said something, Dante smirking as he heard some kind of reaction from Lucia. "You're back! I mean it hasn't been _that_ long but you're back! You beat him didn't you! We've won! We knew you could-"

"No," Dante said, Kyrie stopping immediately. "I didn't win… In fact I got myself killed… Armageddon is still on schedule. But I'm back to fight it."

"I… I don't understand-"

"And I can't explain it, not properly at least, particularly because this is an expensive phone call. But the point is both me and The Plutuson are still alive, and we still have to stop him. Do you have that talisman? Can you get here?"

"No, I'm sorry Dante, it was damaged while I was fighting this horrible demon… Just where are you right now?"

"In Venna, back at my apartment. Don't worry about getting it fixed to meet up with me. We've got two more demons we're going to have to deal with, if we can stop them, we can put The Plutuson off even longer."

"That's right!" Kyrie said. "The four horsemen show up near the strongest hell gates… So you two dealt with one in Dumary… I dealt with one here-"

"_You_ dealt with one?" Dante asked. "Impressive… Very impressive."

She mostly ignored him, though he wanted to think she smiled a little. "So a third one in Venna… Where do you anticipate the fourth will be?"

"The remains of Mallet," Dante said, his tone growing more serious. "Of course the last one will be there… It was Mundus's base of operation. I'm going to figure out a way there, I've made it before. Look into Sanctus's documents about any mention and try and get that thing fixed. If they keep getting stronger, I may well need back up, you got it?" Kyrie swiftly told him she did. "Let me talk to Luce."

There was a little crackling as the phone was handed over, Lucia excitedly gasping, "Dante! Dante thank goodness you're alright!"

"Yeah, feeling a lot better than I have in a long time actually," he said. "I'm back at the old place now, waiting for things to get bad."

"Get bad? You mean… Another of those horsemen?"

"Kyrie told me you two dealt with a second one already. Venna's still standing, that means there's going to be another one here soon. And when he rears his ugly head, I'm going to put him down. You two have been hogging these bastards."

"You sound… Confident?" He could hear her smile. "And you're actually returning a call no less… You must be feeling better."

"Much," he said. "Hey, calling out of country is expensive and I just had to kick in my door. I'll hopefully see you soon, alright?"

"Oh yes… Of course. Looking forward to it! Get whatever horrible thing rears its head in your city!" There was a short pause before Lucia said, "And Dante I… I… I'll see you soon… Right?"

"Very soon," he assured.

There was a mutual linger between them before Lucia reluctantly hung up the phone, Dante following suit a moment later and turned to his closet.

He abandoned the clothing taken from his old home in Entia to see if any of his old wardrobe pieces still fit. The frock had helped reignite his spirits, but was not practical for fast and brutal combat (not that that was ever his first concern, but it mattered enough). He found one of his old red, leather trench coats, the sleeves mostly torn from whenever its last exposure was. He opted to cut them off completely. He then grabbed one of the simpler black jackets hanging on the wall and pulled it on, zipping up to his neck before, following it with black slacks and combat boots. He slipped on an older pair of biker's gloves, looking to keep his trigger fingers available. He looked at himself in the mirror for a moment, noting before he pulled on the coat that the dominance of black left him looking no different than he was when he had felt for Dumary.

But he didn't want to change that as he pulled on the now sleeveless trench coat. He could not and would not try and mask everything that had happened. He had found his spirit again not by suppressing his loss but by learning he had to live with it. He stepped back into his office, took his seat and starred out the doorframe, waiting for whatever would come to arrive.

Before deciding that there may be time for another phone call He quickly dialed the number, still knowing it by heart after all those years, only to receive a message that the number had been disconnected.

"Oh come on," he muttered. He reached into one of his drawers and produced a dusty phone book, giving it a blow before flipping to a page he had marked and punching in another number, a he was answered by a quick and upbeat, "Hello there, thank you for calling Empyrean Pizza Company, how can we help you today?"

[Author's note: Okay, just to be clear, in spite of my long absences, I am not, NOT, giving up this fic. I've had planned out what I'm going to do from the start, I intend to follow through, it's just a matter of Scott Pilgrim: The Audiobook and my various original works taking up time to and, since this and my original work count on me NOT having writer's block, which I frequently do these days, it gets kinda rough and slow to keep going. That's not even counting my job at the airport, playing the Zelda Oracle games and Monster Hunter Tri (All three excellent games I might add) and my girlfriend. Soooo yeah, hectic. I do know how I'm going to keep carrying this and hope to speed up some more as I keep going.

I'd also like to comment that there will be a Q&A like thing at the end of the fic, answering whatever questions come up in the comments, so feel free to ask away and know you'll be answered when I get done. To address the most common one though: Dante didn't Devil Trigger to fly during the fight with Ziz out of nothing more than storytelling reasons. I wanted to save his first use of Devil Trigger for the fight in Chapter 15. If you must have a Word of God answer, Dante WOULD have used it if he had continued falling, but as his Trigger it more combat centric, he wanted to be closer to the ground so he wouldn't run out of energy and still have a long way to fall halfway down. Lucia's Trigger, being more bird centric, could better float down and she's less out of practice than Dante is.

And lastly I'm going to be blunt about this because a few people admitted to not noticing when they were originally featured: There are a LOT, and I mean a LOT of "take thats" in this piece. I won't get too specific about what, but if you happen to notice a passing resemblance between The Plutuson and someone else related to Devil May Cry, it may not be a coincidence.

Thank you all for sticking with me through all this, hoping I can get you guys some more cool stuff here soon!


	25. Chapter 24

Dante was half asleep when screams started to overtake the city outside. His hands fumbled around on the desk for a moment and grabbed one of the napkins that wasn't all bunched up and wiped the pizza grease off of his fingers before stepping towards the sunlight, making sure Rebellion was properly latched to his back before he caught a look at himself in the mirror near the still knocked down door.

"Oh damn it, again? I… I don't have time for this… Do I?" He stood, examing his face for a moment as he continued to hear screams outside before running back into his bathroom, wetting his razor for a split second and ran out to door, scraping at the peach fuzz on his face.

Within a three block diameter citizens of Venna had evacuated on car, by feet, in any way they possibly could. In the very center there stood a tall, slender demon, his form seemingly composed of rotting flesh that clung tightly to bone, tending to a similarly built horse black as night. Surrounding them were a number of skeletons. As his influence seemed to reach out and infect the streets, any soul unfortunate enough to be caught by his power felt themselves disappear, any fat on their body rapidly retreating into their midsections as their skin clutched tighter and tighter until they collapsed into yet another pile of bones.

"Yes," the creature said in a horrible, high pitched voice, "Retreat! Run for your pathetic lives! See thou hurt not oil and wine! What lowly-"

He was given no chance to continue as an old, bright red convertible smashed directly into his body. To Dante's surprise he did not simply crumble to dust and was instead thrown back against the nearest building, smashing through the glass door of a flower shop. Dante climbed over out of the car through the top, the demon's horse seemingly roaring at him, though he gave it no mind.

"Well well well…" The demon shrieked. "So the Son of Sparda lives… Ha! Far be it from me to question The Plutuson, but he is only a child. Of course you found a way to escape him."

Dante looked down as he felt a distinct sensation throughout his body. He hadn't seen what the demon had done to the others, but he could feel the life being sucked from him. He determined he's have to end the fight quickly.

"You can get outta here and stop bothering with this Hellgate or I can march right up and kick your ass. Nero, if you're watching, rest assured I'm going to do the same thing to you!"

"You really have no idea what I am, now do you?" The demon mocked. "We, the four horsemen, born of the hate within the world's heart, our coming doomed to prophesy the end of days… You have done well with my companions, but Conquest is but a battle for the world's riches. War is the rage that comes between men's hearts… But I am Famine! I slaughter seed and cattle and countless with them! Before man's search for treasures, before their rage, _I_ left this world's creatures starving to their deaths! You can never hope to overcome one such as me!"

"Are you just dragging this out so I can starve to death standing here?" Dante asked. "Let's get this over with!"

Famine put out his hands in their centers he spawned a pair of giant shuriken, each with what appeared to be small beam balances integrated into the demonic steel. "I'll rip the skin from your bones!"

"Me first."

The two ran at one another and met in the middle of the block. Though Famine's weapons were unorthodox and his body seemingly frail, he managed to use them quite effectively to parry. His speed was very impressive as well, managing to dance around several of Dante's initial attacks and shred at him with the shuriken. Dante could feel the cuts in his already tighter skin. He kept attempting to take slashes at him, but was parried all too easily. A bitter thought presided over him that he surely would be doing better if the thing wasn't somehow burning him up. He dodged backwards as the demon took another swipe at him.

"C'mon! I just got wasted at the fountain of youth, and _now_ someone decided to remind me how old I am? Give me a break." Famine pulled back his arms and threw his oversized shrunken at him. Dante managed to evade one and bat back the other, taking note of their impressive speed. "Quick little bastard aren't you? Let's see if you're faster than this though!" He slid Ebony and Ivory out of their holsters and began pumping the triggers as fast as he could. The shuriken teleported back to their master who proceeded to spin them until he had broken all of the shells that had been fired. Dante then produced his shotgun and made a lunge, smacking the demon upside it's head and bringing it to flinch slightly before he fired at point blank range into its face. To his surprise, the tightly bound skin had no reaction, the spray of bullets only lodging themselves in.

Famine quickly responded with several more shreds at the demon hunter, forcing Dante to retreat again as he tried to figure just what kind of weakness the demon had to possess.

"Thick skin… And not much more," he said under his breath. "He's chipping away at me though… Just being nearby," he clutched himself as he tried to keep stable.

"Must I prove to you how worthless your efforts truly are Son of Sparda?" The demon mocked as it threw the two stars at him, Dante's body particularly heavy as he deflected the blades. The demon made a lunge and took the reins of his horse, galloping towards Dante at full speed as the demon hunter staggered again, struggling to even keep himself standing as the life was drained from him.

"Isn't there anything we could do to speed up the process?" Lucia asked.

"I barely know how these things work, it was dumb luck I managed to get it working the first time." A frustrated Kyrie replied, trying to piece the pendant-like talisman back together. Little claw like bits of bold clutched a now broken glass center. She wasn't sure if glue would negate its powers or not, but had to try.

"Couldn't we just fly somehow? What if it doesn't start working again? Damn that thing just… Damn it."

"Do you know anything about Mallet Island?" Kyrie asked, irritated.

"Dante brought it up a few time before… Oh God no… Does it… Does it move constantly?"

"Disappears every night," Kyrie said. "Not every night even, whenever Mundus wills it to be moved. Gone in one moment, other side of the planet the next. This," she said, referring to the talisman, "Is our only chance."

"How is Dante supposed to find it then?" Lucia asked.

"I don't know. He just sounded so confident over the phone- damn it," she failed to piece one of the claws back together and started the process of attaching it again. "Even if he can't get there, we can go to Venna and bring him along. Wherever that island is, we'll find it."

"And whatever this Plutuson thing is planning, we'll stop him. We'll put an end to all of this!"

"We will, we will," Kyrie muttered, eyes more intent on the talisman than ever, "And maybe I'll get a chance to pay that son of a bitch back for everything he's done…"


	26. Chapter 25

Dante was pinned to a building by one of the demonic shuriken, the blade running through his right shoulder and stabbing through the steel keeping the place up. He was thankful he had opted for such a dark wardrobe and the red coat; it masked the blood flowing from his injuries. The energy robbing horseman was galloping towards him as he writhed and struggled against the blade, the mad look in the demon's eyes promising a messy death.

With some struggle Dante managed to wrench the shuriken out of his shoulder and flung it at his oncoming attacker, though thanks to the wound the toss was sloppy and fell far off mark. But the attack was not the most important matter, rather that he could then dodge to the side as the demon ran his horse right through the wall of the building, seemingly disappearing into it.

"Oh come on!" Dante shouted, gripping at the stab, "How many powers do you have?!" Whatever Famine's powers were or how they worked he didn't understand, but they just left him completely sapped of energy. At his best he had taken bullets to the head and impalement to the heart, but Famine was robbing him of his ability to heal. The wounds stayed bloody longer, the pain was more intense. Though the pain lingered far longer than he was used to, irritation was actually the major feeling in his mind, a bitterness that after everything he had done to rebuild his lost sense of personality, he was on the losing end of this fight.

The steel of the building seemed to reverberate for a moment before Famine again lunged out of his on the back of his horse, swinging his shuriken mere inches from Dante's throat. The demon hunter dodged the gallop of the hellish steed and took his stance as Famine came rushing at him again. He slipped his pistols out of their holsters as the horseman came rushing at him again, refusing to move from his place as he crossed the guns. "Speed it up! I played chicken with a hell-horse and whole chariot when I was a kid! I can sure kick your ass now!"

The demon appeared to smile (difficult to tell for sure, given the oddity of its construction) as it booted at its horse to ride toward him faster and faster. Ivory and Ebony began to glow with a distinct golden lightning. The demon cackled louder as he closed the distance, raising his two shuriken for what would surely be the finishing blow.

In the last moments before the cut, Dante leaned backwards and fell onto his back. The horse was great and wide enough that he knew it couldn't trample him if he fell just properly between the four legs. He angled his pistols upwards and fired, not bullets, but two great bolts of lightning upwards and blasted through the dead of the undead horse, turning it to dust in a moment. Famine and the horse managed to pass through the building again, but when Dante stood up he could see the defeated steed collapse and throw its rider off of it, he hitting the street in what sounded like a broken mess, though Dante was sure it was not over yet.

The demon struggled to its feet, clearly disoriented, when in a silvery blur its thin body was impaled through the chest by Rebellion. Famine roared in agony as Dante, his skin now a deep gray and his battle cry distorted, lunged forward and pressed his boots to the demon's chest before wrenching his claymore upwards in a great sweeping leap, bisecting his foe from the chest up. He jumped backwards and allowed his demonic energy to fade as the demon's two halves fell, one forward towards his feet and the other backwards to the concrete.

"You… You wily son of a bitch," the demon gurgled through gnashing teeth. "Aha… Haha ha ha… Ah hah hah hah!" It roared in laughter. "Though I have fallen… My work is done… You'll never stop his rise, Son of Sparda… One gate remains… One horseman remains…"

"And rest assured, I'm gonna stomp him out too."

"Human kind has overcome the trials of conquest… Of war… And of famine… But the last horseman has never been overcome… How Dante… Will you defeat Death itself?" And with a last cackle the monster's tightly bound skin began to corrode until nothing remained of him on the street but a man-shaped pile of dust.

Dante considered the demon's words for a moment before reminding himself that, to even hope to stop the last horseman, he'd have to find him first. There was only one place to go.

Dante had not turned here for anything in years, in the worst of his times it was just another place he tried to forget. But he knew it housed something important. He sighed a little and began rapping on the door. A raspy voice bearing a thin Italian accent shouted at someone else in the room, and a gangly teenager wearing a windbreaker dirtied by black oil answered the door.

"Uhh… Hello," he said awkwardly. "Ferino and Son's auto mechanic, where we-"

"Is Enzo in?" Dante asked bluntly.

"Who said my name- Dante! Dante you sly bastard! Get in here!"

Dante had not seen or spoken to his former confidant in years and wasn't entirely sure what to expect. He was still short and pudgy as ever, though a small white goatee now adorned his face and graying hair were desperately combed across his usually shaved head. He was wearing relatively simple clothes, but the great fur coat on the wall nearby implied he dressed far sharper when he went out. In his mouth he was smoking, no, by the looks of it, chomping on a great cigar, which he removed just long enough to motion and shout to the young man, "Junior! Go in the back and get this man a drink!"

Dante stepped in to a large, crowded car garage, the sound of music blairing from a boom box he couldn't see and tools and oil covering the ground. A number of photos and calendars of scantily clad women leaning on or practically straddling various car parts decorated the walls, along with a beat up, long out of commission biplane hanging from the ceiling.

"But Pop who-"

"I'm actually kind of on business right now Enzo," Dante said, stepping forward to his old friend. "It probably wouldn't be such a good idea."

"Bah! Go get him an ice cream cone then! Strawberry still your favorite?"

"You still have my old soft-serve machine in the back?" Dante asked in disbelief.

"Of course I do! You know how many moms end up in hea' after their kids soccer matches or some crap like that? That damn soft-serve machine was the best investment I eva' made! It makes more money than the garage, easy, I can't believe you got ridda' it."

"Had to pay the rent somehow," Dante said.

"Psh! You finally get outta debt and you waste it all on an ice cream machine, which you sell to me when you end up _back_ in debt and is used to make me a killing! Circle a life' or some jazz like that I guess."

The young man returned and handed Dante a pink ice cream cone, which he accepted. "This your boy?"

"Yeah. Course you haven't seen im' since he was a kid. Get back on that car over there Junior, Dante and me gonna talk."

Dante took a few steps closer as he licked at the cone. "How's his mom?"

"Ugh, don't talk to me about that bitch. If you really wanna know just start knocking on doors around town. Sooner or later you'll catch her screwin' somebody. Probably onea my brothas'."

"Ah. Sorry about that."

"Eh don't worry about it too bad bud. Got a new wife now," he motioned towards his desk as they walked past it, a photo of Enzo with his arms wrapped around a taller platinum blonde haired woman with a seemingly impossibly ideal physique on the center.

"My God… She looks like a Barbie doll."

"Hey, real, fake, it don't matter when your face is right in the middle of all that. Trust me."

"I'll take your word for it," Dante replied. "How's the mechanics business? Besides the ice cream machine."

"Good! It's very good," Enzo said proudly. "Course it was better back for a while when demons kept totaling everybody's cars… Its been kinda stagnant as of late."

"Actually… That's what I came to you about."

"What? Are you comin' outta retirement or somethin'? Lookin' for somebody to get you some new cases? Cause I don't wanna touch that crap anymore-"

"Actually I'm just here for Karnival." Dante said.

Enzo frowned and looked up at the plane hanging from the ceiling. "That old thing… But… But it's such a great conversation starter! What the hell are you gonna do with it?"

"I'm gonna take it for a spin, head out to a long abandoned island, maybe save the world somewhere in there. You know, the usual."

"You're gonna… You're gonna fly that thing? Howa' you gonna do that? It's a piece a crap! It was a piece a crap when you flew it here years ago! You practically paid me to take it!"

Dante studied the walls of the garage and the height at which the plane was teathered for a moment before jumping towards the walls, bouncing off them and hopping into the plane's cockpit before opening and rifling through its glove box.

"Show off," Enzo grunted as Dante jumped back down, clutching a few items he had taken.

"Thanks for never cleaning it out. Okay, look here," he said, opening his hands and first referring to a small black sphere, "This is a neo-generator. I learned how to make them years ago discovered they were what was powering the plane when I first escaped Mallet. Onea these probably has the energy equivalent of a nuclear power plant."

"What in the- why have you never tried to sell that then?!" Enzo demanded.

"Eh, it'd pry wreck the economy. And they aren't easy to forge either. You need a lot of blood and a lot of heat. Doesn't matter though. This," he continued, referring to a circular object, "Is a compass linked to Mallet Island. The place changes location every night, maybe even just at old man Mundus's will, but with this I can track it down." He looked down and noted it was pointing towards the west.

"Why are you going to Mallet again?" Enzo asked. "And this Mundus talk… I thought you dealt with him already."

"This is something new," Dante said solemnly. "Familiar, but new… And for the sake of the world I need to get out to Mallet as fast as I can."

The sudden harshness of the conversation took Enzo by surprise. He adjusted his glasses a little as he starred at his old friend inquisitively. "Man… I thought something seemed different about you… That last remark and the weight… You're a different man Dante."

"Am I?"

"Yeah… I mean, I guess… But only kinda… You still got that spark you used to… But I can feel how grave this is… Your tone kinda speaks volumes… Junior! Come ere' and help me get the old plane down."

"What?!"  
"You heard me!" Enzo stopped in his tracks and continued to look at Dante before saying, "I don't know where you been all this time… But I'm glad you're back… Especially if what you're saying is true."

"It is… And thanks." Dante said with a nod and a bit of a smile.

"Between me and you bud… I think the world kinda needs a guy like you to do more than just kill some demons."

"What do you mean by that?" Dante asked.

"I mean I watch a lotta movies and TV with the kid and the wife… The heroes… God I use that term loosely… I mean… You watch a lot of that stuff?"

"Nah," Dante said. "I stopped affording real TV channels years ago."

"Yeah, don't worry, it's all crap. The heroes are all a buncha assholes… I seen interviews with guys who make that crap. Where the hero just stands there and sweas' every other word, where he's got a real bad attitude… Where they're just annoying jack offs. You know what the execs say? 'It makes em' more realistic. The world doesn't want idealized heroes and all this flashy crap, save that for that cartoon garbage they make in Japan'. All that shit. That's all it is Dante. It's shit."

"What, you don't think heroes have problems too?" Dante asked. "I can assure you, I have a hell of an ego, but I have plenty of problems. I've just now been learning how to cope."

"Yeah yeah yeah, we all got problems, we all outta be better… Except these little bastards on the TV don't wanna act any better. They're assholes, through and through kid… World's changed Dante. World don't want glitz and glamour and a crazy attitude like yours no more… But frankly, I think it needs it." They were quiet for a moment as Enzo took a long drag at his cigar. "I know that was kind of a tangent but, I'm sorry... But I think every time I'm watchin' that crap… I kinda hope somebody like yous gonna show up."

"Am I some kind of ideal? I'm flattered."

"Maybe you can do things I can't, maybe you're a total freakin' loon… And maybe in spite of everything you bleed just like I do kid… And what do you do with those gifts? You try and be better than people like me. Maybe I can't really relate to somebody like you… But at least I actually want to… In a sentence kid, the heroes folks love these days are scum. You ain't scum, you aspire to something greater than all that crap… And I hope after this whole mess is over people open their eyes a little more and see just how bad they really need a guy like you."


	27. Chapter 26

Kyrie and Lucia were still seated in the back of Fortuna's Opera House as Kyrie continued to try and piece the talisman back together. She managed to clip the last of the tiny claws into place. Gently she pushed at the claws so it appeared like an open hand.

"Okay… We're close I think… There was some small sphere it… You know, clutched? In the center? I don't really know what it was though."

"Was it some kind of demonic material? I mean, do you know?" Lucia asked.

"I would think so… But I have no idea what that would be. Or where we're supposed to get any."

"Well… You have devil arms don't you? Why not experiment with those?" Lucia suggested.

Kyrie shrugged a little and muttered, "Guess it's worth a shot." She got up and retrieved the shield she had used against War. She turned it over and ran her hands over the back, which was lined with crystalline bits the size of rather large berries. She dug at one of them a little and plucked it off, noting some kind liquid spilling out.

"What is that?" Lucia asked.

"Not sure. Let's see if it matters." Kyrie said, slipping the orb into the center of the talisman and closed the golden claws around it. The thing shined a little but dissipated just after that.

"Is that it? Do you think it worked?"

"Let me see…" Kyrie pressed her finger to the orb and felt some tiny surge of energy before normality set in again. "I think that's the ingredient, I think that's what we need, I guess that liquid was what we needed then… Here, hold it up." Lucia took the shield and held the front towards the ceiling. Kyrie took a moment to dig in and pulled another of the crystals out and set it in the center of the talisman. She pressed her thumb to the crystal to keep the liquid from spilling. Again she felt a surge of energy, closer to the feeling of teleportation, but still nothing happened. "Damn."

"May I see it?" Lucia asked. Kyrie wordlessly passed it on, Lucia giving it a long look over, rolling it around and examining every part of it. "It seems… Familiar… I've never really noticed these before, but I know they've always been there I suppose…"

"Just where did you come from?" Kyrie asked, leaning back. "I mean… We haven't talked much. Between what Dante and I have said you know all about me. What about you?"

"I… Don't know how much there is to say," Lucia admitted.

"Look, I'll admit… I was skeptical about you," Kyrie said. "You're a demon. I know that… But you're a friend of Dante's. And you helped me defeat War. I know we buried your mother… What is your story?"

Lucia sighed. "There's not much to say… I was created by a sorcerer researching how to create artificial demons… He wanted a legion to open a gate between this and the demon world. He expected resistance, maybe he knew about Dante, maybe not… The demons he created were powerful, but they weren't what he sought… He wanted something mighty, something with a demon's tenacity but a mortal's common sense. He continued to use more and more mortal blood in his work…" Lucia clutched herself. "I… Don't know how much he used when he finally created me… But I sometimes wonder if I'm a spirit inhabiting a forsaken shell…"

"My… My God," Kyrie said, struggling to take it in.

"I don't… I don't think I'm a human… But there is human in me… Too much for that bastard's taste. That was why he abandoned me."

"I… I'm sorry." Kyrie said quietly.

"But my mother and Dante taught me to not linger on that history… Dante taught me that others came from damned lineage… Several of his old friends all came from horrible places… Weren't even you once an enemy of his?"

"Not exactly," Kyrie said. "But I was part of the group he brought down… Someone else was more his enemy than me."

"Some are well beyond redemption, I've learned that. The man who created me, the demons well on the other side… I don't really know what this Plutuson really is, just that he is the son of the mightiest of Hell's damned… But he didn't choose that." Kyrie turned away, "I just-"

"No." Kyrie said. "Don't linger on those thoughts… This is a creature whose sole purpose is to end the world. And has killed too many too close already… Don't pity this son of a bitch…"

"But he didn't-"

"No!" Kyrie asserted. "I… Just focus on the talisman! I don't want to hear anything else."

Lucia swallowed and turned her attention back to the talisman, running her fingers over the claws when one pierced her skin with a quick, "Ow." A little blood trickled into the center of the talisman, which suddenly lit up again, leading Kyrie to double take.

"What did you just do?" She asked excitedly.

"I pricked my finger."

"That's it!" Kyrie exclaimed. "Demon blood must be the key! Here, quick," she pulled another of the crystals off, not minding the liquid. "Squeeze a little in there! Hurry!"

Lucia, realizing the implications, gripped her finger and pushed and squeezed, spilling a few drops of blood into the crystal. The talisman shined for a moment as the crystal sealed itself, the claws wrapping around it on their own. The women turned to one another and smiled excitedly. Within five minutes they were fully equipped and gripped the talisman, ready to reunite with Dante and end this great conflict.

An instant later they stood in the middle of a largely cleared jungle, looking up at a black sky full of shimmering stars. The sound of waves crashing against cliffs were quite audible. In the distance they could see the devastated remains of a castle. Their eyes darted around for some sign they were in the right place.

"Is this it?" Lucia asked. "Is this Mallet?"

"Judging by Dante's stories in Mundus's castle, I think so…" Kyrie said. Neither was sure of just what to do, unsure of if any opposition would greet them, though none did. Talk came up of searching for the final horseman, but agreeing that given the size of the island, they'd know when it arrived. And in any case, weren't sure they would be enough. Not if the demons were constantly getting stronger. Ultimately they sat by the cliffs, quietly waiting for some sign.

After maybe an hour or so of nothing speaking but the crickets, a loud whirl became audible. Both got up and searched around and made a dash in the direction of the noise. Following the noise, they saw a great red biplane coming up over the horizon. They both watched excitedly as the plane managed a rough landing in a mostly clear part of the jungle. They ran as fast as they could, huffing and puffing as Dante jumped out. The greeting was surprisingly quiet, but consisted largely of Lucia throwing her arms around him. Dante shared a smile with the two of them and pulled Lucia away a little. Words were sparse, only that they were all glad to see one another.

Their greeting lingered for a few minutes before Dante motioned to the castle. They all nodded to one another and made their way up the foothills towards the ruins, determined to bring down the final horseman and stop The Plutuson.

None of them had any more words for one another as they climbed upwards. In spite of their silence, however, there was some other out-of-place noise coming from nearby, the sound getting louder as they approached the dilapidated castle, sounding almost as like… The sound of a mandolin?


	28. Chapter 27

As the three arrived at in the long devastated foyer of the castle, their gazes were all transfixed on two figures in amongst the ruin of smashed walls, singed carpet and shattered windows: One was a pure white horse with pale blue eyes, gently whining to the creature next to it.

There was nothing creative about him really. As one who bore a name like Death, he fit the title ideally. Nothing but bones wrapped in a black cloak, the hood tossed back to reveal his skull, which was faced downwards at his boney fingers strumming at an altogether ordinary mandolin, which was all that seemed out of place.

"What… The hell?" Dante said with the raise of an eyebrow and a double take.

"You were quite prompt," the demon remarked, its voice very cold and calm, "Very impressive… I suppose you were expecting a fight."

"You…" Kyrie struggled to say. "You're supposed to be…?"  
"Yes child," the skeleton replied, still strumming. "I am the final of The Plutuson's horsemen, those said to foretell his reign, and the end of days."

"But then… Does that mean you are-" Lucia began, confused before he interrupted her.

"If you're asking if I am the one who leads the righteous to the heavens and the damned to the pits, no, I am not that creature." The sockets of his eyes finally looked up from his mandolin, which he set aside. "I am not death… I am simply called Death."

"Alright bud, I really don't care," Dante interrupted. "You already said you're one of The Plutuson's heralds, and I'm going to have to take you down for that," he whipped out one of his pistols and pointed it right at the demon's head. Death gave him a little look that suggested he'd raise an eyebrow if he had one and resumed playing his mandolin.

"Go ahead. There's nothing to me but bones anyway. I'll be dust before I feel a thing."

Dante was held his place for a moment as his companions looked on in confusion before slipping the gun back into its holster. "What are you trying to pull?"

"Nothing," Death replied. "I am not interested in fighting you. If you are going to kill me, do it."

"This is clearly some kind of trap," Lucia said, standing by Dante's side. "What, will the dust you're made of poison us or something? You said you're Death, can you just kill us at will or some garbage like that?"

"I told you," the demon replied, "I am not the Death you mortal have come to know… I do not lead souls and I do not reap them." They continued to stare, confused as he pushed himself to his feet, his full height, something like ten feet now evident. He hadn't appeared nearly so impressive while just sitting, where the extra few feet came from none of them had a clue. "Not to say it is of much importance… But if you must know I am a doppelgänger of sorts for the true angel of death."

"A… What?"

Death set aside his mandolin. "The true angel of death has little in common with myself… He appears as an attractive young man and his cloak is lined with gold… I was bred from mankind's fear of him… He's truly a gentle soul, authoritative when need be, but not intimidating in the least… Human fears give way to their nightmares, and as a nightmare joins collective conscious, it finds a way to take shape, as I have."

Dante found himself unusually transfixed by the demon's words, so much so that even as he thought he should attack, he still didn't, perhaps for fear of some trap, or perhaps to hear him continue.

"The angel of death is just that… An angel. A herald of the almighty. I am a herald of the damned. We are two sides of the same coin, in some ways I suppose… The angel of death shuffles off the dead to the existence after life's end. I, in turn, live a kind of non-life. I do not kill, I do not lead, I do not reap. Even in Hell I simply sat and waited as I do now."

"Okay, okay look," Dante said, slowly growing frustrated again. "Look, I don't care if there are angels, or God, or anything else in all this, okay? If you've got the motivation of a misunderstood teenager, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Fulfilling my end of the bargin," Death replied. "In spite of my disinterest, I am indeed mankind's greatest fear. And their fears grant me strength. With all of that strength, I can be used to open the final Hell gate and allow the end to come. In exchange, I will be granted the experience of true non-existence. Not death, non-existence. And there is nothing I desire more."

The four stood quietly, no sounds within the castle's ruins but the whining of the horse before Dante again wrenched out his pistols and began firing. The noise echoed across the island as he fired blast after blast of lightning through the demon, shredding his cloak and bones, though they did not turn to dust as the creature said they would. After a minute he pulled Rebellion from its place on his coat and slashed across the demon, knocking him to the ground. Again there was quiet as Dante and his companions looked on at the seemingly vanquished demon.

"Was… Was that it?" Kyrie asked. "Did we stop the opening? Did we stop Armageddon?!"

With some visible struggle the demon got back on its feet. With its cloak now shredded it was notable that it contained a beating heart (though _what_ it was beating without blood was questionable) within its ribcage.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Death said. "But there will be no stopping Armageddon. Not by you and not by-"

The demon was suddenly interrupted as a deep black hand brutally smashed through its back, clutching the heart in its center until it erupted.

"Anyone!" And with that all movement within Death ceased, the dead demon falling to the ground, nothing more than a pile of bones. The three all looked upwards in shock at a figure seemingly shaped from black ink with three great, fiery eyes looked on at them.

"I guess the talk is true then Dante… Fool me once, shame on you." The Plutuson mocked.

"What the hell was that?! And… And what the hell _is_ that?!" Kyrie demanded.

"I can feel you hiding the same question Dante," The Plutuson paced around the four a little, an eye on each of them, but his top one on his greatest enemy. "What the hell _was_ that?"

"I'm not really too interested in that either actually," Dante said, drawing Rebellion again. "I'm just here to keep the end from coming."

"Oh please Dante, did you really think it was that simple?!" The Plutuson cackled. "A man aspiring to godhood manipulates you and your brother into opening a tower into Hell. A woman shows up at your door who looks exactly like your mother, promising you revenge, and you just believe her instantly?! Haven't you learned in all these years Dante? Or is that how you keep ending up in this spot?"

Dante lunged at the still black shadow, The Plutuson locking with his longsword. "So go ahead, guess what the twist was this time."

"You're wearing women's underwear under all that black," Dante sneered. The Plutuson threw him off, a kind of sneer of his own coming across his face.

"Ha… Ha ha… That was actually a good one… About damn time!" The Plutuson cackled. "No. Not in a million years you sack of shit… It was never about opening those damn gates! Not the ones you're thinking of." There was a moment of hesitation from the opposing party before he continued, "Sparda could never hope to overwhelm my father on his own. Not while he was at his best… He managed a few lucky strikes, brought out some dragons… And like the sight you just saw, tore out his heart, leaving him capable of being overcome by scum like your old man." The sneer seemed to shift into a fully toothed smile. "Unable to destroy such incredible, raw power, he sealed it away and bound it by a sacred enchantment."

Dante bit at his lip. "Aw come on, no!"

"That spell could only be broken when the four horseman were defeated and their blood spilled upon the four Hell gates!"

"You used us!" Lucia screamed.

"Oh it wasn't easy. Only Death would accept the responsibility easily. The others wanted no part in my work. They didn't know they were part of the plan, I just assured them I'd need their might to help overtake this pathetic rock. Since I was trapped on the other side, I couldn't finish them myself… Sure was convenient all of you demon hunters were running around!"

It was then that Kyrie snapped from her place, swinging the Red Queen right at his neck. The blade cut part way through, surely right through his vocal chords, but The Plutuson had no reaction to the cut. He grabbed ahold of the sword and wrenched it from his neck and starred at her with all three of her eyes.

"Where did you get this sword?" He asked. Kyrie didn't reply. In spite of Dante shouting she stop she pulled out the Blue Rose and fired into his face. Still he had no reaction, only more firmly asking, "Where did you get that gun?"

"What's it matter to you?!" Kyrie demanded, dodging backwards and taking several more shots at him. The inky black surrounding The Plutuson began to dissipate. He was still a projection of some kind, but his features were now more clear, the deep black hair with the white tips, the red lined scales, the dark coat, everything. Kyrie was not deterred by this and again swung at him, only for him to catch her with his bright red hand that was now properly colored. After catching the blade he twisted his arm and threw her aside, still examining it.

"What… Is this? I've… Seen this before…"

Dante took a lunge of his own but The Plutuson gave him only passing attention, dodging him out as he continued to look at the blade. Practically on the verge of hypervenelation, Kyrie screamed and ran at him, firing as many times as she could with the Blue Rose before throwing a punch at his pale, skin-like center, tears in her eyes and crying louder and louder.

"You killed him!" She screamed. "You bastard you killed all of them! But him… You killed him you son of a bitch!"

The Plutuson grabbed at her face and clutched her cheeks, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

"You really know how to pick them Dante," he mocked. "This one's clearly lost her mind."

"Bastard!" She kept screaming. "Bastard you killed him! Nero… You killed Nero!"

At this point, for the first time since his new rise to power, The Plutuson flinched.

"I… I what?"

Kyrie pushed him away in his momentary daze and snatched the Red Queen out of his hand and stabbed him through his stomach, no sign of pain on his face. She could hardly say anything, her throat too knotted to manage anything but "Nero" over and over again.

The Plutuson started to shake and convulse. Dante and Lucia both took the moment and slashed him from his sides, though even then he didn't react.

"I… Nero… Nero… You… Agh!" The Plutuson jumped backwards, all three of them wrenching their weapons out as he did, confusion on his face, gritting his teeth as he looked on at the three. For one moment the third eye on his forehead closed. No eyelid was evident, as if when he closed the eye it wasn't there at all. At the same time that it closed his hair fell forward from its slicked back place and, for just a moment, emanated entirely white.

"Ky… Kyrie…?" The Plutuson struggled to say.

"You… Know my name?"

There were no more words exchanged as the demon's third eye opened again and his hair reverted to its black, beads of sweat dripping down his face as he threw out his shimmering red arm and snatched Kyrie from her place. She kicked and screamed against him as the two were wrapped in the inky darkness and vanished from Mallet.

"What was that?" Lucia cried. "Where… Where did they go?!"

"I think I have an idea," Dante said. "We don't have much time though… Especially if Nero's serious about how he's opening that gate!"

"_Nero?!" _Lucia exclaimed, more confused than ever.

"I'll explain on the way. We don't have much time!"


	29. Chapter 28

Kyrie had lost consciousness when The Plutuson had dragged her off, though she recovered fairly quickly, not more than a few minutes later with the great creaking of two gigantic onyx colored doors. She first tried to move her arms, to find she couldn't. Then her legs, and still didn't succeed. Last she tried to scream, to find she didn't make a sound. Her hands and legs were bound by the thick black ink substance that had emanated off The Plutuson more of it filling her mouth. She managed to jerk her head just enough to see The Plutuson moving the fingers of his crimson hand. Looking down enough she saw she was levitating, the black goo seemingly leading her on an invisible leash. She saw she was in some kind of dilapidated chapel, filled with shattered stained glass windows and broken metal and chains and candle wax melted into the ground. The Plutuson proceeded into the center of the room before a gigantic, muscled marble statue. The Plutuson pulled his coat to the side and fell on one knee before the statue. Kyrie fought a little more to look up at the idol, more sweat dripping down her brow as she looked upon its face with a head of slicked back hair and three burning red eyes.

"Father," The Plutuson began, "It is done. The Four Horsemen have all fallen... I'd imagine you can already feel it." Kyrie noted he had lost the distortion in his voice, almost seeming human now.

"Yes... Well done," the deep and breathy, a great authority but also a great tiredness to it coming from the statue. "It's only a trickle now... But the dams will soon break. When the flood comes... We will destroy this pathetic world. And rebuild from the ashes, the forces of Hell will rise again! And the Son of Sparda will fall, followed by the rest of these worms!"

The Plutuson had a great smile on his face as the demonic voice, Kyrie knowing it must belong of Mundus, began a rough, wheezy cackle, The Plutuson joining in slowly.

"And this... Who is this you have brought Nero?"

Kyrie felt as if her blood had frozen solid at the question. She jerked her head over in wide eyed horror.

_No_ she thought, _No he knows my name... He... He knows those weapons... But... And that arm and and... Oh my God no! No!_ She tried to scream, but still found the black goo had her gagged too tightly.

"Another devil hunter father," he answered slowly, his voice seeming to calm. "I... I knew her before... She was... A friend. In my past life."

"She is of no use in this war," Mundus said curtly. "Dispose of her. I do not know why you brought her to me."

Again Kyrie fought as hard as she could to move or scream or do anything, but couldn't, though it was at this point Nero flinched.

"Bu- But Father she... I told you, she was a friend... She would surely make an excellent servant." Nero said slowly, Kyrie fighting against everything to try and resist their words.

"A servant with perchance to killing out kind and insighting further revolutions is no one to keep so close child. I told you, kill her!"

Now Nero was growing almost as unnerved as Kyrie. "But she... She will certainly obey me Father! Dante never told her who I really was! He probably lied that I was killed! She will most certainly not be any trouble now that she knows the truth-"

"Do not defy me boy!" Mundus's voice commanded, now more stern and mighty than ever. "Who was the one who gave you your power? Who began your ascension into this world's single true master that you are about to complete? Ask no more questions and slaughter her in obedience!"

"Even you needed to secure a womb!" Nero barked. "Who gave me my power? Did you create me as some foul creature like Trish?! Or was I bred through one of your servants?" At this he got to his feet in anger. "I am your heir father, _you_ have one! But what about when I am emperor? I am prince, I will one day be king, and when that day comes I too will require an heir, and a mother to produce him!"

It was at this point a tiny shriek managed to escape Kyrie's gagged mouth through all the black, the gravity and depravity of the situation horrifying her in a way she had never known before. This demon, the crown prince of Hell, had been her friend? She had _loved_ him? And now he spoke of using her to produce an heir, she knowing full and well she'd be powerless to resist him when that time came?!

"Insolent child!" Mundus roared back. "If you will not obey my words, than I shall be rid of this foul thing myself!"

And with that the three burning red orbs seemed to leap off the statue, flying towards the immobilized Kyrie. She shut her eyes tight and tried to let out one last wail, well beyond any idea of what she could do.

After a few seconds with her eyes clenched shut she slowly opened them when she realized she felt no pain. Nero was standing before her, the three burning orbs blocked by his red hand as his own eyes glowed brighter than ever before he tossed them off, the three orbs then returning to the statue.

"I am the insolent worm?!" He demanded, his voice now facing heavy distortion, an aura like black fire emerging all around him as he grit his teeth, seething with anger. "Need I remind you who put this into action?! Need you remember what _I _have dedicated to _our_ legacy?! You want to play God old man? Then you kill Dante yourself! Or should we look back on the track records? _I! Killed! Him!_ Maybe he came back, but I still did what you never could! I'll take your plan; I'll take your power... I'll even take your orders... But maybe _you_ should think about who's really in charge of this show!"

Only his echoes were audible for the next few seconds before Mundus slowly replied, "Take her away then... Do what you will... By nightfall my power will be great enough."

Nero threw open a door deep in the underground of the chapel, nails digging into his forehead and heavy gritting of teeth. Kyrie still fought the trappings as hard as she could, the demon turning and roaring, "God damn it! Stop already! Se- Settle down!"

Kyrie managed to move her head enough as he seemed to grapple with himself. Upon looking at the room better she noticed a number of vile instruments on the wall, blunt and sharpened alike, right over a bed of nails, an iron maiden and many other foul items of torture. With one hand Nero gripped the stone walls as hard as he could, nails digging in deep, but his legs continued to trudge closer and closer to the iron maiden before in a lunge he threw himself in. Kyrie watched in horror as the nails stabbed through his scaley skin and managed to force the door shut. With that the black ink seemed to dissipate, Kyrie falling on her hands and knees, wheezing and gasping for breath. She pushed herself up, her whole body shaking in terror for a moment before she ran for the door and tried to rip it open, only to find it locked. She slipped out The Blue Rose and was about to fire at the lock until there was a creek and the iron maiden opened. She turned, almost unwillingly to the torture device. A seemingly all new man fell to the ground out of it, gasping desperately for breath. He wore the same tattered black coat and pants, but everything else about him, with the exception of a still red demonic hand, was completely human. His skin was pale and his eyes, only two of them now, blue. His previously slicked back black hair had now fallen over his face and had inverted in color. Kyrie looked for only a moment before shrieking and pulling at the door out again.

"Kyrie… Kyrie for the love of God calm down, calm down!" He pleaded, running forward and attempting to put a hand on her, only for her to jerk around and point the Blue Rose at his head.

"Keep your hands off me!" She screamed. "You… You don't come any closer! I… I don't know what you are or… Or… You're not him I know you're not! Or… Or if you are you-"

"Kyrie I- I am!" He assured. Indeed, even all demonic tone seemed lost from his voice, which now sounded almost frightened and desperate. "You've known me since we were kids… I knew you, and The Order, and Creedo and everyone-"

"If you're him then… Then you killed them! You killed them you killed them you killed them!" All calm was completely lost. In her shudders and shakes she dropped the pistol and began pounding against his chest, sobbing with every word, too bitterly confused to keep her thoughts straight. After a few seconds she finally choked out, "I trusted you… I… I… And you're a monster!"

After a little longer Nero pulled her from him and looked at her reddening eyes. "No Kyrie no… You don't understand… I didn't kill them… Not Trish and Lady or any of the others… I didn't… _He_ did."

"What are you talking about?!" She demanded. "He told me everything! Dante told me everything you monster!"

"No Kyrie no- Please," he gripped her and gave a brief shake, "Please, please listen to me!" After a few more seconds of heavy breaths and struggling she settled, if only a little. "I… I didn't do it… Any of it… He did…"

"Wha… What? What?! Mu… Mundus?"

"No," Nero said, "Not him… Not him… _Him_."

Still shuddering, Kyrie finally looked up at him through her tearful eyes. "You… You really are… Nero? You're really… How? I… Why?"

The two were silent for a moment before Nero turned away, digging into the wall again. "There was always a lot we didn't know wasn't there Kyrie? Where I _really _ came from… Before The Order… Everything. I've learned a lot down here… Mundus knew everything." There was a short silence before he continued.

"Captured by The Order when I was an infant… They sensed something in me, I don't think they really knew what I was but… They knew something was different about me… And they wanted to use me to power their Savior… But whatever was already there just wasn't enough." He clenched his burning red hand. "I was demon enough to accept Sparda's blood… I don't know if I was just too young to remember or they somehow blotted it out, but whatever happened, it became a part of me… Trapped within for years until that injury, I know you remember it. When it all manifested as this thing."

The two were quiet for a few moments more before Kyrie finally said, "You still didn't answer the most important question… Just… _Why_? I can see you and talk to you now! What… What does all of this mean?!"

"Sparda's blood staved off certain… Tendencies… It created me. Allowed me to almost live a normal life… If not for him."

"Who is this him already?!" Kyrie demanded. "You keep dancing around this! It's Mundus isn't it?"

"Mundus?" Nero asked. "Oh God… If only." She had to flinch in surprise. "Mundus would be an utter blessing compared with _him_." As the confusion kept up, he finally pointed to the wall. It was then Kyrie noted his shadow was bulkier, bigger and maintained the look of the slicked back hair.

"What does it mean?" She asked.

"It's Nero," he said with a chill. "It's Mundus's son… His _real_ son."

"What? But… But you're the real-"

"No I'm not Kyrie!" He snapped. "I'm not the real Nero! I never was! Maybe I was in control longer, but I'm a fake!" He pointed himself with the glowing demon hand. "A second identity made from knowing good through Sparda's blood! And frankly… The only thing holding him back." Another brief silence took them before he explained, "Had Sanctus never experimented on me… Had Sparda's blood never entered my veins, the me you knew would have never existed. The real, the original Nero, the one who you can believe is Mundus's son… I've never encountered a more volatile monster… Mundus has every intention of conquering this world… Nero, the real Nero, has every intention of slaughtering anyone and everyone upon it." The words were cold, sending chills down Kyrie's spine as she stared, mouth agape. "You saw something of him back there in the chapel, but only a fraction of what he can really do… I cut just a little looser than usual to frighten Mundus into letting you live.

"He's stronger than even Mundus is?"

"Try stronger than he's ever been," Nero replied. "Stronger, nearly unstoppable will… But weak minded. Very week minded. Mundus can control him, at least a little, but not for all that long… He'd surely be dead by now if I wasn't holding that… Thing back."

"Why are you still here?" Kyrie asked. "I mean surely there was something-"

"Something? Oh I've tried every something!" Nero burst out. "Supressing him, conserving my strength… Even trying to kill the both of us! But the bastard just won't die! No matter what I do, he will not die! He always comes back, and I always come back with him." He turned around and looked into her eyes, "I'm still here because I'm the only thing keeping him linked back to Mundus's agenda, instead of his own… If Mundus wins, mankind falls… If _he _wins… There is no mankind at all."

With that the look in his eyes became sorrowful, "You need to escape while you can Kyrie… I've weakened him enough for a few minutes in control, but we'll be sharing control again soon… Run. Run far away. Nothing can stop what's about to happen… Not Dante or anyone else. In a few hours, I'll have conquered this world in my father's name… I'll hate every moment, but at least I managed the lesser of the two evils." He opened the door. "If you find Dante, tell him the same."

To her shock Kyrie found her legs moved very slowly towards the door, despite her previous will to escape. She lingered on Nero, looking deep into his blue, defeated eyes.

"Kyrie… No matter what," he began in a choke.

"Please… Please no…"

"Even if I wasn't ever the real one… Kyrie I… I'll always-"

She could take no more and darted out into the underground, leaving a trail of tears behind her.


	30. Chapter 29

Dante and Lucia must have been flying for nearly six hours, the old plane moving far too fast for its age and make thanks to the modifications Dante had made using demonic energy, speeding across the ocean and over land again.

"How do you know just where we're going?" Lucia asked.

Dante referred to the compass in his hand. "I thought it reacted to Mallet, but I could sense it going haywire when Nero showed up… It's not a matter of Mallet, it reacts to Mundus or, in this case, his kid. The island changed while we were there even. We were in The Pacific when I got there and left from the Atlantic, judging by the sights below us… If I had to guess I'd say that's France down there, if I had to guess." He looked at the compass again and turned slightly. "Maybe a bit more than an hour until we reach Fortuna, then we can make back for those mountains."

"And… And then what?" Lucia asked. Dante didn't say anything, he just stayed the course.

Just as the old plane seemed to be on its last leg, Dante landed in a line of countryside with a screech. Dust and grass was thrown everywhere as the two climbed out and got a good look at the menacing mountain range, knowing well of the city buried beneath it as storm clouds lingered overhead.

"So… What happens now?"

Not more than a few seconds after Lucia asked the question the ground began to shake. Sweat was dripping down both of their brows as the earth seemed to roar at them, threatening to crack into a million pieces.

"It's an earthquake!" Dante shouted. "Get under the plane, now!"

Both of them retreated beneath the plane, hands clutched over their heads. The earth cried and creaked, rock smashing against rock, a sound almost like explosions off in the distance. Nothing could keep still, everything crumbling around them. The noise and the shaking was monstrous over the course of the next few minutes, before Dante peered up, his eyes wide.

"It's not over… Not by a long shot."

Lucia pulled herself up from the plane and had her hand to her heart.

The city-turned-necropolis buried in ash was forcing itself up from under the earth and towards the mountains. The city began to levitate, surrounded in an orb of hellish energy before flying backwards and crashing into the mounts, sitting high above all else around it. There was a silence from the earth-shattering for only a moment before a demon's roar could be hear all the way from the field. The roof of the cathedral shattered into a million pieces as the marble statue of Mundus grew bigger and bigger until it exceeded even the height of the tallest mountain peak and extending high into the black clouds above. Again there was an unnerving silence. The demon hunters remained in wait for a few minutes, neither saying a word, before Dante squinted his eyes. Tiny specks were rushing out from the destroyed town and from around the statue. He kept at the squint for a few seconds before muttering, "Oh damn…"

"What? What is… Oh God," Lucia said, her own eyes widening. The ground began to shake again, but for a far different reason this time. "Are they… Are those…?"

"A legion," Dante said, the smallest twinge of fear in his voice as the small specks seemed to move with such consistency that there appeared to be a stream, and then a river of black flowing down the mount. "They're going to charge us…"

"They… They what?!" Lucia cried. "But I- I've never seen so many! I've never-"

"In my entire career… I've maybe killed a fraction of all these."

As the demons continued downward, their roars of hate became audible as they rushed faster and faster as the clouds finally broke, pouring rain down on the two. Lucia was shouting that they should retreat to the plane, that they could not hope to take so many, that there had to be another way. Frozen in place, barely hearing a word, and not knowing why, Dante slipped his hand into his pocket and slipped out the tiny golden ring, his eyes falling on the engraving again.

"_La speranza e l'ultima a morire."__  
__Hope is the last thing to die._

Lucia continued to shout at him in protest, that they must retreat if survival would be possible. Dante remained in place, lingering on the ring a little longer before bowing his head and muttering, so quietly he would know Lucia couldn't hear him.

_ "Listen… Old man in the clouds… Whoever you are, if you're there at all… Sorry, I haven't done this in a while… Not since I was a kid… My mother believed in you… She taught me to do the same." In spite of Lucia's continued resistance he lowered himself onto a single knee. "And if you're anything like my mother taught me you are, you look out for the people on this earth… I dunno, maybe that's what I've been for and I just never realized it. Maybe. Well, then you know full and well what's about to happen… I'm not usually this desperate, but this really could be your whole planet we're talking about here… I'll do all the hard stuff, I promise. Do you think you could… Maybe just give me a hand…? Or a few?"_

And with that some outside force brought him on his feet, Lucia still not having left his side shouted, "Dante please! Please just… Just wake up! We have to go! We have to-"

Wordlessly, Dante raised the ring towards the sky and quietly read, "La speranza e l'ultima a morire."

From the mountain there came a roar as a lion's. And from the sky, seven thunders uttered their voices.

In a single flash seven bolts of lightning struck. One hit Lucia, who felt no pain, another hit the ring, which now seemed to glow with a mighty aura, and the other five scorched the earth around them. Upon the five burned patches of ground the a new energy emanating from the ring was led. Lucia's hands were to her mouth as the energy of the ring slowly took on five human shapes. Even when they found definition and texture the shapes still remained spectral, not quite human, but nearly there.

"Damn, who knew he had that many put away. Guess he was saving them for a special occasion," said the first voice. A tall woman with long blonde hair stepped forward, her clothing revealing and looking as if made of black leather.

"I hope you brought guns… Lots of guns." A second woman said. Her height and hair were both shorter, the latter a distinct black. She wore a white ride's suit and black shorts. She initially also wore a pair of sunglasses, but she was quick to slip them off, revealing her eyes did not match, one was red, the other blue and a distinct scar across the top of her nose.

"You really couldn't have been bothered to figure this out at any better time, could you Dante?" Asked a faintly nasally voiced with an icy flow to it. A third stepped forward, this one a man with a head of spiked white hair, garbed in a blue trench coat.

"He called for us when he needed us Vergil, simple as that," came the fourth voice, this one carrying a strong sense of old world dignity as its owner, dressed in purple and with a similar head of hair, slicked instead of spiked, made his way to the front of the bunch.

"And whew, looks like we're just in time," came the final voice, this one also female. "I guess you needed an army of your own, huh kiddo?" Her voice was pleasant and sweet, one could almost hear the little smile on her face as she stepped forward. Just from her words Lucia knew immediately who she was, only confirmed by her exact likeness to Dante's old photos.

Her hair too was long and golden, flowing over her back to a red shawl she had tied around her black sweater leading down to a similarly colored skirt, hose and boots. Her clothing, her coloring, and her face were unmistakable as she took her place by her son's side. Slung across her back was a longsword, its blade engraved with a small, burning heart, the pommel etched with five crosses leading to the button, attached to which were a string of prayer beads.

Dante turned and slowly took inventory of those who surrounded him as the oncoming hoard ran faster and faster. "Trish, Lady… Vergil… Dad… Mom… Good to have you back."


	31. Chapter 30

Sparda took a few steps forward and squinted his eyes a little before muttering, "That's a lot of them alright… Good thing skill trumps numbers any day."

"I'd say _almost_ any day," Dante remarked. "But that's still a lot."

"I overthrew a legion this size on my own you must remember," Sparda remarked. "But then again, I had my sword then…"

"You couldn't be bothered finding mine either, could you?" Vergil asked.

"Hey, gimmie a break," Dante said. "I didn't even know this is what the ring was going to do… Though here," he unstrapped the rocket launcher from his back and slid it towards Lady, "I did still have this on me."

"Thanks," she said, equipping it.

"My lightning should be able to get me by, at least for now," Trish said.

Vergil threw out his hands and summoned two cyan blades, "I'll get by like this… Though I've got a feeling Yamoto is around here somewhere, I can feel it."

Sparda opened his coat and flashed two handguns latched to his belt. "Between this and anything I can just cook up out of my body, I'll be fine."

"Okay, good. Mom, you?"

She motioned at the longsword on her back, drawing it from behind the shawl and giving her son a better look. It was indeed a finely crafted weapon, the reach, sharpness and shine all impressive, even by his standards. "Her name is Madonna." Dante nodded solemnly as he turned towards the still approaching menace. Lucia tried to take the sudden appearance of the phantoms in as Sparda cracked his gloved knuckles, a deep red lightning emanating off on them.

"Our powers are linked back to you Dante," his mother said. "We can use them as long as you have the energy to keep us, but we need you to be our anchor."

"Got it," he affirmed. "Luce, keep on your toes. This whole thing's not getting any saner any time soon."

"I… I appreciate all of this," she said softly. "But just seven? Against… _That_?"

"Have a little faith dear," Eva remarked with a little smile. "Did he say your name was Lucy? Pleased to meet you." She turned to Sparda as he continued to clasp the red energy, the demonic hoards rushing closer and closer. "Almost done over there love?"

"Just about," Sparda replied, clapping his hands together so that the electrical surge seemed to consume them. "Here we go!"

There was about a mile between the seven and the legion of demons as Sparda threw out his hands and the red lightning discharged from his hands. A massive circle of burning red traced a circle around what could have been a ten mile perimeter. The fastest of the demons rushed forward and slammed into the mostly transparent red wall. Hell Wraths and Lusts roared in fury, marionettes and scythes steps behind pounding against what could have been indestructible glass, armies of demons even Dante didn't recognize a few steps behind.

"Settle down you damn brutes," Sparda said under his breath. "I'll slaughter as many of you as I can, I promise."

And with that he threw out his hands again and threw the army backwards. There were Abyss, blood red and seemingly drained of life, agonofinis shaped of black and bone and carrying axes, screeching skull-like sargasso and the gruesome, still evolving nobody. Beyond the thick of these forces stood the strange creatures Dante had never before seen, including several gangly ape creatures with gigantic knives, burning skeletal creatures with swords and shields and a number of others that seemed somehow out of place.

"Well then, let's get this show on the road!"

The seven stepped forward and slipped through the red wall before them, exposing themselves to the devils within.

Immidietly noise and chaos overtook all else. Gunshots, screams, the wind of blade slashes and bursts of lightning filled the field. The bayonet at the end of Kalina Ann fired through the crowds and reared demons in closer, allowing Lady to dispatch of them with a mighty blast of rocket fire, dropping the weapon only for a moment to whip out her pistols or throw grenades out into the denser part of the crowd, ripping at the pins with her teeth as the deafening explosions overtook The Plutuson's forces.

A line of the demons nearby were brutally cut through by a gigantic blast of lightning generated by Trish. The electricity continued to burn from her hands as she smiled mockingly, motioning to the demons to make their way over. Red cloaked sins jumped in at her taunting only for her to grab them by their faces, electricity burning them to a deep black before throwing them aside as they disintegrated into sand. She closed her fingers together tightly and shaping the lightning into daggers to repel the giant skulls and nobodies lunging closer. Several demons managed to get in closer, the nobodies slashing into her shoulders briefly, though it didn't phase her enough to cut off her continued assaults.

Vergil stood several feet away, two cyan blades clutched in his hands as his own army of snarling monsters drew in closer. When the closest of the abyss closed in, he rushed forward and stabbed it with both blades, the swords shattering as it pierced the blood-like body. The creature groaned and leaned down, giving Vergil a chance to squeeze its neck into a lock, grab one of its horns and jerk it around until he snapped its neck, throwing the body to the ground as it turned to blood. "Next," he said, with the sneer of a once truly crazed man. He put out his hand and a new batch of blades multiplied behind him and began to skewer any closing in.

Closer to Lady, Lucia was rolling out of the way of the more obscure looking beasts, throwing knives whenever she could stop long enough to catch a breath and hack through them with her cutlasses when things slowed down a bit more. Her acrobatics kept her a few steps away from the great devils with knives and some breed of harpy creature by the side of numerous Fallen. She still had her doubts about just how they were going to keep up with the demons that seemed to just keep coming, but she did her best to keep some kind of confidence.

Gunshots blasted from Dante's side of the battlefield as Ivory and Ebony tore through the layers of demons, killing when the bullets passed through their heads, and stunning enough that Dante could finish them in a few strokes of Rebellion when they didn't. He could feel his heart racing with every strike, blood pumping as fast as it could through every vein in his body with each attack he gave and received, not that he felt much of any pain when he _did_ receive them. His breaths grew a little heavier as he took more of the demon's attacks, scythes and scissors and swords cutting through his chest, but he just didn't care. He felt like a young man at the opening of his shop again, slashed and impaled on every side and yet only concerned with retrieving the pizza the creatures had knocked off his desk. Even when he failed to repel an attack, he only responded with an assault of his own. Though he bled, he continued to stand. When the creatures spilt that red, they'd never stand again.

"Did you ever suppose it was going to come to this again darling?" Sparda asked, arched back to back with his wife as the less civilized of his kind snarled and closed in.

"Oh come on now, you know me better than that," she said. "Some little girls grow up with dolls and baby carriages… I grew up with my parent's old hunting knives." She pointed her sword out at the demons as they stepped in closer, only a tiny distance separating the couples from them now. "I hope I made for a good mother… But I know I made one hell of a hunter!"

Sparda chuckled as he raised his pistols. "It's our second date all over again love, just on a grander scale."

"Let's break our records then."

As the demons finally closed the distance, Eva swung around in a full circle, hacking into a number of them and killing most instantly. She pushed her sword outward, thorns seeming to grow from the side of it as the blade opened somewhat and fired outward like a whip, slashing through the nearest monsters to her. To the left and right she swung her arms, whipping and slashing through the demons as she went.

Sparda followed onto the offensive just after her, guns blazing as he picked up where his wife left off. His marksmanship were rivaled only by his son, the demonically charged bullets firing through the hunched over demons and turning blood-goyle to stone as Eva shattered them in a few sword strikes. The two's chemistry in battle was masterful, even as the stranger, seemingly faceless demons drew in closer, Sparda shooting a blue headed one as Eva slashed a red headed one, both of which were coming up on one another's backs. As the snarling creatures continued to draw in, the couple kept themselves close, each movement calculated, almost working as one near perfect demon killer.

As Vergil continued to slash through the seemingly innumerable demons around him, his eyes caught a something sticking up out of the field nearby. He tried to make a dash at it, mesmerized, sure he had seen it before, but Scissors and the ape-like bladesmen blocked his path. Vergil motioned to his swords to run the demons through, Vergil wrenching the scissors out of one of the black reapers hands and hacking through those that dared surround him. Before any more could get close enough, he bent down and disappeared in a blue blur. Several more blue blurs moved through the battlefield until Vergil came upon what he had seen stuck in the ground. The curved blade, the decorated handle, yes, he was sure. He reached out with a hand for it before a great surge of demonic energy threw him backwards.

Entire feet back from his place, Vergil bitterly pushed himself up from the ground as the army of demons around him began to form a great circle all around him and his lost sword, Yamoto.

The threatening black and purple aura surged for a few seconds before beginning to take human shape. It stood at about his height, vaguely less phantom than he, but not much. It dressed like a human, wearing black dress shoes and what appeared to be washed out blue slacks leading to a black velvet coat. The face, Vergil noted, was greatly similar to a younger version of himself, though hardened by something other than age, and the demon matched his spiked white hair. This only worked to make Vergil angrier.

"Put that down, fake," Vergil said, voice heavy with ire. "I'll be able to kill you a lot quicker with that," he spawned two more of his summoned swords, "Than these."


	32. Chapter 31

Vergil locked blades with his distorted doppelganger, the swords keeping more physical integrity than usual before breaking the lock and putting out a hand, firing a number of phantom blades at his opponent. The doppelganger accepted their attacks without second thought and broke the lock before slashing Vergil down his center, shattering his summoned swords.

Vergil recoiled and dodged backwards for only a moment before disappearing in a blue wisp. He reappeared behind the demon, but the creature turned and caught him with ease, as if expecting his movement. Vergil gritted his teeth as he dismissed his summoned swords and took a crack at the demon's jaw. This it did not anticipate and forced it off balance for a moment. Vergil again put out his hands and spawned two more blades and stabbed it in the stomach, the blades shattering just after entry. The demon still showed no sign of pain, though Vergil had not expected it to. He reached forward for the demon's head but it too disappeared in a sudden wisp. Vergil's eyes darted around the battlefield before crouching and disappearing in a wisp of his own. The demons surrounding the two began to scan the air in confusion as the two appeared again periodically in blade locks before simply teleporting outside the circle the demons had formed. Wraths and Prides found themselves caught in the crossfire as the two continued hacking and slashing, the circle of space growing wider and wider.

The combat had gone on for the better part of an hour and already the legions pouring out from the mountains were beginning to thin out, even if only a little. Even amongst forces like this rain of devils, seven was all that could be necessary, when the seven all seemed well beyond the grasp of death. Every attack throughout the continued assault was pragmatic, deathly intentional and more than enough to keep the screeching demons at bay.

Dante regularly made rounds to his allies, gunning down anything in his path and switching to Rebellion when action seemed to dictate it. As the blurs of the two Vergils passed him he considered offering his aide, but the roar of still more of the foul creatures behind him, and his attention was quickly diverted. Lunging towards him were the heavily armored Dullahan. His guns were raised, though he knew even Trish's enhanced bullets wouldn't penetrate them. Instead, he slipped them away, ran at the demons and jumped off one of their raised shields and hopped behind it, ready to attack the blood red gem on its back, but he never got the chance. Eva's chain sword whipped past him and wrenched the diamond from one of the demon's backs as gunfire was audible just after, Sparda's handguns killing the other two Dante had dodged out.

"Not slowing down too much I hope," Sparda remarked as he closed some of the distance, the demons surrounding them stepping closer, the nearest forces composed of the simian Nobodies and Jomothumsira dripping in blood and black smoke respectively, a number of beasts not unlike corrupted children's toys of porcelain, the Demonchorus, flying downward and towards the parents and their son.

"Ugh… I never liked dolls," Eva remarked. "Even when I was a kid. And especially not ones like these… Thank goodness for you and your brother," she added to her son. "I could have never raised little girls. Keep your eyes on them Dante, those bloody apes in particular. They're a Darwinian nightmare."

"Mom, no worries," Dante assured. "I've done this before."

"Alright alright kiddo. Just trying to help out."

The three didn't split from their place, instead all backing into a triangle formation and allowing the demons to close in on them. As they did the three began to take tiny half steps to circle their formation, Dante and Eva slashing at any of the simians who came too close as Sparda blasted the Demonchorus out of the air. When the Nobodies nearest to Dante began to slow, as if ready to fall down dead, he shouted, "Move!"

The three did so with great haste as the creature erupted into a wave of toxin, burning the demons that stood around it. Those it killed appeared to erode into nothingness, while those who survive were left brutally scarred, flesh melting. The three kept at the pragmatic strategy and escaping the many beasts with barely a scratch.

"I gotta admit, I actually have no idea how you're keeping that thing on," Dante said, referring to his mother's shawl.

"I'm already dead Dante," she said with an eye rolling chuckle. "Trust me, the skirt would be a pain in the ass to fight in too, but I don't even notice it like this."

"Is this really the best the son of Mundus could offer?" Sparda laughed. He turned towards the mountains and shouted, "You come at us with a legion and my wife and son are just exchanging clothing stories! You never stood a chance!"

Kyrie had remained within the great underground even after the chunk of mountain had been raised into the air. Earthquakes feeling like they were raging beneath her feet she clung to the walls of the cavernous passageways. She wasn't sure what she hoped to do there, but could not run as Nero had suggested she should. No, no there still had to be more she could do. She would not run, even if faced with the hellish Nero again.

She had sworn to herself she would become a demon slayer, that it was her place to fulfill the roll Nero had left behind.

And whatever state he was in, she did not question that decision for an instant.

She was behind enemy lines, there had to be something there that could help prevent what was to come, she knew it, even if she didn't know of the battle raging outside. She had searched through the expansive underground, sometimes finding paths that led directly outside, displaying her impressive altitude and the gigantic, beginning to grow again, this time more quickly as she noted a loud, throaty gurgling sound in her opposite direction. She turned towards the sound, ear pressed to the stone and made her way down the corridors again, following the disgusting sound further and further from the light. After what felt like a great distance she came into a chamber she had not entered before, with only an ancient, long destroyed gate standing in the way of another passage. Swallowing, she pushed past the decrepit thing and onward into the direct center of the mount.

And there she looked on in horror at the source of all the combat below. The chamber she entered was massive, but crammed, necessary so as to accompany the massive beast that sat hunched over within. It was sprawling and covered in both deep black fur and bald patches, on its hind it swung a gigantic reptilian tail. Though its body seemed exaggerated mammalian, its head was also cold blooded, appearing like some horrid, misshapen dinosaur with a boar's tusks and frog-like eyes. Out from its gigantic mouth it seemed to vomit the forces that populated the battlefield, as if hundreds if not thousands of demonic souls were within its stomach, poured out from the mountain and flowing downward like a river.

Kyrie recognized the demon from her old readings and grew even more uneasy. From what Dante had told her, he had killed The Scourge of the Seas years ago, the great whale-like Leviathan. And only just after his current journey began he had slain The Scourge of the Skies, Ziz.

But this creature was mightier than its companions, a massive creature of disgusting power, The Scourge of the Earth, Behemoth.

After a bitterly long series of teleported and telegraphed attacks, the battle between Vergil and his phantom came to an end. The phantom had hunched over, Vergil's precious sword in hand and called upon its teleporting powers to slash from a distance, Vergil's personal attack, the Judgment Cut. But, able to read the movement faster than even his doppelgänger seemed to be able to, Vergil teleported behind him and was engulfed in an aura of blue light.

He had waited for this response. The Judgment Cut took time and couldn't be personally interrupted. The perfect moment to response.

When he appeared again his coat had seemingly merged with his now black skin as he dug his summoned swords into the phantom's back. The demon turned a little and redirected his teleportation attack, but Vergil had gained a thicker skin and took a slash at its hands, hacking them off, though the demon didn't bleed, more turned to ash. Before it could respond, Vergil lunged and grabbed back his katana, stabbing the demon through its stomach before letting his demonic aura fade and his body return to normal.

For the first time, the phantom had a look of unease upon it before it teleported away, retreating a few feet, then a few more and a few more until it was out of sight. Vergil bent and retrieved his blade's sheath, eyeing the lesser demons who seemed to be closing in on him again.

"I'll deal with the fake later," he said taking his stance. "Come on… Who wants some?"

[Wanna apologize again that updates have been moving like molasses as of late. The summertime, I've found, is _reeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaalllllllllly not good for my writing career. I much prefer to write when I'm in school and regularly around writing anyway, as opposed to the ways of the tedious summer job. I will be back in school soon, about two weeks, and will hopefully speed up. We ARE rushing towards a climax folks, if it wasn't painfully obvious enough, so do stay tuned and thanks as always]_


End file.
